Testing Audio -DK Principessa

by kibass91

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12. Time for Change

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton made his way to his study with slow steps and head bent down. He planned to rejoin his mother's ball at some point but for now, a rest from the festivities. For the most part, people were treating him normally after the debacle of last season, a failed wedding in front of the Queen no less. His title and gender went far in repairing his reputation. He was not so stained as to prevent all interest in securing his ring. The few who still looked down on him didn't bother him exactly, not in their own right. Rather, they reminded him of his shameful behavior toward Edwina and Kathani Sharma.

Kate had been willing to try and make things work between them but she could not bring herself to forgive his dogged pursuit of her beloved sister knowing he never had any intention of loving her as she deserved. Daphne had passed on the news that the Sharma family was currently faring very well as guests of Prince Friedrich of Prussia. It was good to hear. He was happy for them truly, but he required solitude to chew on his thoughts. So it was rather a shock when he entered his private study and saw a sumptuously curved woman's figure stretched on the couch.

The fabric hugging her hips was dark green with a silky, gilded gleam. He took his time letting his eyes wander up the length of her, savoring the moment. He hadn't the heart to seek any entanglements after Kate, a fact of which his body reminded him on a nightly basis. Yet here lay someone bold enough to seek him out for her pleasure. What other reason could she have for being here? Perhaps she was an acquaintance of Siena's.

His eyes roamed past the prominent dip of her waist to an impressive bosom where - Holy Hell - a hint of the pink border of her nipple peeked above her bodice. Then to her sleeping face and very red curls...What the devil was Penelope Featherington doing in his private study in such a state? Penelope who'd started dressing to emphasize her womanly figure instead of the often childlike dresses her mother foisted on her.

Was she here to seduce him? He knew she wouldn't try to trap him into marriage in such a way. Her mother would in a heartbeat but not Penelope. Surely she was too innocent to come to him for pleasure...and yet if, as he suspected, she was Whistledown maybe she would be so bold. She was certainly transformed this season, moving more confidently through the ton despite its penchant for caprice. She'd seemed unaware of the men whose eyes had started following her about the ballroom, but maybe she'd caught him. Maybe she noticed his notice. The idea warmed his pride but he could not be sure. Might as well find out.

He walked back to the door and shut it with a decided thunk that startled her awake. "Were you waiting for me, Little Pen?" There was more gravel in his voice than he intended but she didn't seem to notice.

"Anthony? What are you doing here?" Ah, she wasn't here for him, then. A small sting. Thank goodness she sat up so her dress covered her again.

"Pardon me, Miss Featherington. I neglected to schedule an appointment to use my own study," he joked as he would with one of the family. She had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Sorry. I just needed to get away from everyone and this place felt safe. I didn't mean to fall asleep." That warmed him in a completely different way.

"I'm glad you feel safe here."

"El and I used to sneak in here sometimes when I'd sleep over."

"Here?" What the devil could interest two young girls in here?

"We like your family pictures and your couch is rather comfortable."

"So I see," he teased gently. He paused before continuing. "Would one of my siblings be the reason you needed to get away? You and Eloise seem not as close lately."

"Indeed she has been distant and keeping company that does not welcome me. I don't quite know why but that is only a small reason for my retreat." He was afraid of that.

"Is the rest Colin?"

"You know?"

"Only that you seem unexpectedly at odds with your two dear friends. What happened," he asked softly, unable to ignore her flinch at the mention of his brother.

"He said...Last season he spoke harshly of me to his friends and I overheard. I wouldn't have minded him not wanting to court me but why did he have to say it so strongly. And publicly. And then he laughed. I thought we were friends. I just couldn't be in the ballroom any longer with him trying to speak to me as if all is well." Anthony groaned and shook his head.

"Please tell me the imbecile apologized." The look on her face was enough of an answer. "Not satisfactorily. Noted. I'm sorry, Penelope. There was no excuse for such behavior. You deserve better. Much better."

"Thank you. Did you call me Little Pen earlier?" Anthony flushed slightly.

"I did."

"I liked it."

"Then Little Pen you shall be." She half-grinned.

"Should I call you Big Anthony, then?"

"No," he coughed out harshly. "Ahem. No. Just Anthony, please." She nodded absently.

"Why did you ask if I was waiting for you?"

"You're in my study."

"I was asleep in your study. It hardly makes sense I would wait for you in here when I could have more easily spoken to you anywhere else." He squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"Penelope..."

"Little Pen."

"Indeed." Sweet Lord he did not want to have this conversation but if she was going to dress like that she needed to know. "Might I be frank with you?" She was a sensible girl. She could handle it.

"I would prefer it."

"When you lay down in that dress it reveals far more than you think." He kept his eyes resolutely on her face and watched her transition from confusion to hot embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped.

"Don't be. It quite made my night."

"Anthony!" She threw a pillow at him and he caught it with a laugh.

"You asked for frankness. Truly I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. Forgive my ego. I was simply flattered you might want my attentions. But if someone else had found you like that...An eye-catching woman such as yourself must be careful."

"Oh," she said solemnly. "I don't know about eye-catching."

"I do," he said firmly.

"Oh," she seemed surprised by his certainty. She looked him over, assessing him in a way she'd never done before. "Might I be frank?"

"Please, do."

"What if I'd said yes, I was waiting for you?" His throat went tight and his eyes grew dark. She did not flinch.

"Do you truly wish to know?"

"Yes."

"Then meet me back here later."

"Later?"

"Yes, we should rejoin the party and I would like to dance with you. Don't worry. The servants will confirm they gave you a headache powder and a quiet place to sit. I was merely checking on you. With the door open, of course."

"Of course." They walked out of the study together, Anthony catching a passing servant and dragging them along until they could be seen by the party goers again.

"Thank you for taking such excellent care of our guests. Miss Penelope said that headache remedy was just what she needed. The servant responded in the affirmative and bid them good evening without batting an eye.

"Shall I sign your dance card, Little Pen?"

"Oh," she said with a little gasp of surprise. "Er yes, I suppose." Clearly she was a little self-conscious being looked at so furtively for entering the room on his arm.

"Did you know you light up when you dance?" He peeked at her as he glanced over the other names on her card. None good enough for her but mostly harmless.

"I do?"

"You always have," he hummed, pleased with her slight blush and soft smile as she looked away. Oh, he liked that. Here she was the blushing debutante again even after her bold question in the study. How delectable, and if Colin had taken himself out of the running there was nothing to keep him from pursuing her. He continued to steal glances at her while they chatted and she had her other dances. When his turn came he let himself notice how delicate her hand felt in his and for a moment he hated her gloves.

"We are being watched," she whispered.

"Well, you are the first woman I've danced with in a while." At her soft look, he crooked a self-deprecating smile.

"You've changed, haven't you?" That's what made her dangerous, what drew his brother and sister like moths to her flame. Sometimes Penelope Featherington saw to the very core of you.

"I certainly hope so." She gave a squeeze with the hand resting on his arm.

"Then I'm proud of you. It takes strength to truly look at yourself and try to be a better person." He had no words for a response and she kindly looked away so he could gather himself but he held her a little tighter until their dance ended.

"I'll see you later, Little Pen," he whispered as he escorted her off the floor. He didn't want to bring too much attention to her before he knew she was open to being courted by him. Still, it was difficult not to intervene when he saw Colin approach her. She looked uncomfortable but not too angry. She held herself together well. If he wasn't mistaken she turned down Colin's request for a dance. Well done.

Anthony kept an eye on her until he was ready to retire, making sure to graze her arm as he walked past. "Miss Featherington," he murmured. She might still decide not to meet him but he thought he saw a slight shiver at his touch and that gave him hope.

Chapter 2

Summary:

What might happen in a study

Chapter Text

Penelope pressed a hand to her stomach as she made her careful way back to Anthony's study. She didn't have to come. Anthony wouldn't be angry if she changed her mind. But he would be disappointed and wasn't that an intriguing thought, Viscount Bridgerton desiring her attention? She would never have considered it before tonight but he really had changed, being more open with himself than she'd ever seen him. His interest was clear in his face and the way he held her during their dance. It felt incredibly good to be looked at in such a way and she was done being the cautious wallflower this season. She had to find out what a rake like him would do upon finding a young lady waiting for him.

With a pounding heart she opened the door. Anthony regarded her with dark eyes. He was reclined behind his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, handsome as ever. "Shut the door." She did as he said, unable to do more than stand there and take short breaths. "Everything said or done here tonight is only between us and you can stop it at any time you wish." She swallowed hard.

"I know. I trust you."

"That pleases me." He rose slowly and dragged his eyes over her as he approached until he was standing so close she leaned back into the door. "Ask me again." His voice was roughened again like it had been a few times during their earlier conversation. It made her breath stop for a moment.

"What if I was waiting for you in here earlier? What would you have done?" He seemed to grow restless at the words, flexing his hands and pressing them to the door on either side of her to keep from closing the distance between them. She peered up at him, trapped by his intense regard.

"I would've knelt in front of you. Taken in the scent of your hair that has been tantalizing me all evening." His half-closed eyes roamed over her face. Anthony didn't seem the type of man to kneel. Picturing it in her mind made her stomach tighten. "Then I'd have to pull this down slowly," he mimed tugging at her bodice, his fingers just barely brushing the cloth, "to see what was trying so hard to fall out of your dress earlier. The edge of your nipple was showing and I needed it in my mouth." She inhaled sharply. "Then these," the heat mirage of his fingers ghosted across her lips and left them tingling. "I need to taste them, too." Her soft whimper made him smile. "I have to ask you something, Little Pen. May I court you? You don't have to answer now. I won't touch you unless you say yes."

"You won't?" The disappointment was obvious in her voice. How could he say those things and stand so close but not touch her?

"Well, maybe a little." He took her mouth with his, the rest of their bodies quivered at the edge of touch but where their lips met was electric. Anthony groaned and rocked back, still gazing at her intently. "Write me when you have an answer. I won't subject you to the ton's scrutiny until you're certain." He raised her hand and peeled her glove back so he could kiss her skin, then stepped back and pulled the door open. "Goodnight," he whispered.

--

Penelope stayed awake late into the evening, still a little shocked and trying to will away the ache in her stomach. Anthony wanted her. No, he needed her. That word. He had needed her in his mouth he said, needed to taste her. Her very first kiss was from Viscount Bridgerton, known rake, and she couldn't recall ever being so wet between her legs. It was tempting to try and ease the ache herself but previous forays had only left her more frustrated and uncomfortable. He would know how to ease her, she thought darkly. If there was one thing Lady Whistledown had learned about such intimacies in her few years of spying it was that women enjoyed being with rakes, even more so than husbands sometimes.

And that was another thing! Anthony didn't just want her physically. He wanted to court her. But did she want to be courted by Eloise and Colin's brother? The man she'd danced with tonight, she wanted to be courted by him but how would she feel about possibly becoming Colin and Eloise's sister? Though if Daphne was anything to go by his interest might spur other good prospects into action. Was she terrible for thinking that so soon after thinking what he could do between her legs?

Colin probably wouldn't like it if she said yes. It was obvious when he asked her to dance earlier that he just expected her to accept. It never occurred to him she might refuse. If there'd been any lingering romantic feelings in her heart toward him they were well and truly soured now. For a man older than her, he certainly had the maturity of a schoolboy and she refused to allow him to interfere with her romantic life from here on out. It also didn't escape her notice that for all they'd done and said quite scandalous things tonight, Anthony was very mindful of her reputation. He'd made sure not to put her in a position that led people to question her propriety. A sharp contrast to how Colin had always treated her.

And what of Eloise? Who knew how she would react? She'd been so different lately. Her friend denied that she was pulling away and asserted that she was allowed to have other friends. But El had no defense for why that other friend was Cressida Cowper, the girl who'd bullied Penelope since even before her debut. It felt like Eloise was punishing her for something but she couldn't fathom what it might be. True, the worst Cressida did nowadays was send her disdainful looks but it still hurt. Maybe being closer with Anthony could help her figure it out.

She continued to weigh her thoughts (and quite honestly to fantasize) for hours but in the end she was a gambler's daughter and Anthony's proposal was exciting. The rush of it was too alluring to resist. The way he effected her and the way he seemed effected in turn by her was intoxicating. She was almost certain when he opened the door for her to leave he turned his face into her hair. He didn't even seem to realize he did it. It was that bit of honest vulnerability that made her pen a quick letter before settling down into bed.

Yes. With a few conditions.

Chapter 3

Summary:

a little confrontation, a little conversation

Chapter Text

Breakfast at the Bridgerton house was always a pleasing clamor. Tiresome for the amount of noise but happy nevertheless. This particular morning Anthony had a brighter outlook than he'd felt in a while. Today had potential. His excitement when the post came and the resulting smile on reading what looked to be a personal letter caught everyone's interest.

"What has you smiling so, dearest," asked Violet, ever watchful of the things that made her children happy.

"A letter from Penelope." Everyone looked confused at that but especially Eloise, Violet, and Colin.

"Why would Penelope write to you," Colin demanded almost talking over his mother who asked very carefully if Anthony was interested in her. Eloise said nothing but cut her eyes at him suspiciously.

"Because I asked her to. And yes, Mother. I find myself very interested in her."

"Oh, well that's lovely darling! We must invite her to visit soon."

"I was thinking we could promenade today as a family and meet her there."

"Of course," Violet began but Colin broke in again.

"What do you mean you're interested in Penelope? She's like a sister to us."

"Not to me," Ant smirked.

"Me either," added Benedict.

"Certainly not to me," Gregory chimed in exuberantly.

"Gregory," his mother admonished, swatting at him with her napkin.

"Besides, I should hope you wouldn't disparage one of our sisters to your peers the way you did to Miss Featherington last year." Anthony's countenance hardened and Eloise's turned downright venomous.

Colin groaned. "It was just a joke. I told her it didn't mean anything."

"Was that the entirety of your apology? It seems we've been lax with your education. An apology usually begins with words such as I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Colin, what exactly did you say?"

"It was nothing, Mother."

"Colin!" Violet Bridgerton rarely used such a sharp tone and they all knew better than to ignore it.

"I don't remember exactly. Something about never courting her, not even in his dreams. It was just Fife and those idiots. They're harmless."

"Harmless!" cried Eloise. She was just gearing up for a tirade when Violet brought the entire table to silence.

"Colin Christopher Bridgerton!" Benedict whistled lowly. "Have you no idea what you've done? You have severely hampered her chances at finding a husband with your thoughtlessness. Any lesser lady might have no suitors at all after being spoken of in such a manner by a member of a prominent family."

"It was only Fife and his friends! They shouldn't be courting Penelope anyway." Those were the wrong words to say to Violet Bridgerton.

"You still seek to justify yourself to me?" Colin finally seemed to register the incredulous anger in his mother's face and wisely shut his mouth and looked down at his plate. She stared at him as she enunciated, "we will promenade as a family today and you will behave like the gentleman you were brought up to be. You will not interfere with your brother and Penelope. And until you can give her a true, heartfelt apology you will leave that girl alone. Is that perfectly clear?" Colin glowered at his plate but answered in the affirmative. "You are dismissed." He left the table without looking at anyone.

"I love you, Mother," Eloise muttered warmly, practically starry-eyed at the reminder that their mother was a formidable woman, and that was enough to break some of the tension at the table. Anthony left quietly. He knew the incident with Colin had to be addressed in some way but it was never enjoyable arguing first thing in the morning.

"Brother," called Benedict, following him down the hall. "That was quite a dramatic start to the day. Now, please tell me how this new interest came about. I am your favorite brother after all." Benedict was probably the biggest busybody in the entire family but Anthony did want to talk to someone and Ben was also a good ear. He couldn't mention how he thought she may be Lady Whistledown and he found that incredibly exciting but he could tell enough.

"It's not all that new. She's always been attractive but she was young and there was always Colin." Benedict nodded along and waited patiently for him to continue. When he didn't Ben leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

"Something spurred you to action. What was it? I won't tell anyone."

"I found her in my study last night. I thought she came there to see me and it felt...exceedingly good. I haven't felt that excitement since..."

"Kate." Ben's eye were warm with understanding. "Why was she there?"

"Apparently, I have a comfortable couch. She's not as shy when she doesn't feel put on the spot. She's curious and passionate."

"You learned that from catching her on your couch?" Anthony smiled at the gentle tease.

"We talked and danced as well. I like her, Ben. Last time was such a disaster because I was dead set on following my head."

"So you thought you'd follow something a little lower down this time." He gestured below his waist. "Isn't that what went wrong with Siena?"

"I was thinking of using something more centrally located." He gestured between his chest and his stomach. Benedict wisely didn't comment on the fact that that included his heart. "Though, I won't lie, in that dress..."

"Yes, I noticed. You're lucky you found out she wasn't interested in Colin before I did."

"I know," Anthony smirked.

"I'm happy for you, Ant. So is Mother. She told Francesca to keep an eye on Colin during our promenade today." Anthony's eyebrows rose at that. Fran was their quiet, even-tempered sister but she was a bulldog when she felt protective of someone. He liked to think she got it from him.

"I should write her back. Make sure she can meet us."

"Absolutely. Go and address your lady fair. If you muddle this up, do you think I have a chance?"

"In your dreams, brother."

"A few times, yes."

"Get on with you," Anthony growled. He moved to his desk and smoothed his hand over a parchment.

Miss Featherington,

I am intrigued. Please join my family and I on a promenade this afternoon to discuss terms.

A

By the time they made it to Rotten Row, Anthony had her original letter and her agreement to meet him folded up in his breast pocket as tokens of good luck. They carried the barest hint of her sweet scent and reminded him of her small, delicate hand in his when they danced. Francesca was using her grip of death on Colin while smiling serenely and Eloise was mostly keeping her eyes trained on the pair. Though she seemed to be avoiding looking at Anthony. No one could really figure her out lately. She didn't seem unhappy exactly but she certainly wasn't acting like herself and he had no idea how to get her to open up. Usually Penelope was her confidante or Benedict, but he hadn't said anything.

Of course, when Penelope strolled by in her light purple day dress, Eloise left his thoughts altogether. "Miss Featherington, lovely to see you. Won't you join us?"

"Of course," her smile was strained and she was trying not to blush.

"Breathe, Little Pen. I've got you," he said quietly.

"Everyone's looking again, Anthony."

"I know. It will be alright. Just talk with me. I enjoyed the time we spent together yesterday. Both in and out of the study." She got very flustered at that so he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. His thumb slipped under her glove to stroke the back of her hand and that finally seemed to settle her.

"I'm no good at this," she huffed.

"At what?"

She gestured around awkwardly with her fan. "Courting behaviors."

"On the contrary, you've charmed me already and we've only taken a few steps. The hardest part is over. Now we can just enjoy." When she looked up at him and smiled it was a much easier one this time. "You had some conditions to discuss with me."

"Oh, yes. Right. I think I should still entertain other suitors. If there are any, I mean. It wouldn't do to appear too serious at the start. It's not that I don't like you," she rushed out and began tripping on her words. "Just what if, what if we realize we're not a good fit after all. If we change our minds everyone will gossip about it."

"Especially with my track record," Anthony added ruefully. They both knew the gossip would be harsher on her if things didn't go smoothly, unfair as that was. "I understand. It's a very sensible decision. Of course, you should feel free to explore your options. And your other conditions?"

"I liked how honest you were with me. I should like to continue being so frank with one another. No one will just tell young ladies things. Only give vague answers and expect you to muddle through. How are we supposed to make the right choices if no one will tell us anything?"

"That seems fair. In the spirit of compliance, I feel there's something important you may not know as a young debutante of the ton."

"What is it?" Her eyes glimmered with excitement. Oh, she would be fun. Anthony leaned in and dropped his voice and he quite liked how it felt when she leaned close in return.

"What we felt when we kissed in the study, the heat of it" he whispered, watching the color rise in her face. "It's not like that with everyone." He drew back and let her think on that for several steps. Finally, she eyed him with a skeptical frown.

"You are a rake."

"So, I would know, wouldn't I? I do have a condition or two of my own."

"Oh?"

"Write to me."

"From across the street. We will be seeing each other fairly often. What could I possibly have to say?"

"Whatever you wish as long you put the scent of your perfume on them."

"My perfume?"

"Why yes, Little Pen. I expect to be thoroughly wooed if you are to make an honest man out of me." At her expression of disbelief he fluttered his eyelashes coquettishly and she burst into laughter in the middle of the lane.

"Surely you're not serious."

"About the wooing, no. That's more my job. About the letters, yes. For one thing, they'll irritate Colin and that pleases me. For another, I can't stop thinking about the scent of your hair." He simply looked at her, letting her see he was in earnest. He was determined to follow his instincts this time and his gut was telling him she needed to see how much she effected him.

"Oh. Alright. Um, I should speak to Eloise. Excuse me." She rushed away but he wasn't worried. There was a spark of heat in her eyes under the uncertainty and that's how he intended to outstrip his competition. None of the others had seen that side of her and likely wouldn't know how to handle it if they did. Despite her awkwardness in some situations she was no simpering miss. And what was the point of being a rake if he couldn't use it to convince the woman he wanted that he was the right man for her

Chapter 4

Summary:

In which we find out how LW handled Eloise

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Immediately following calling hour Eloise Bridgerton was on the steps of Featherington house. "Penelope, dear, Miss Bridgerton is here for you," Portia called sweetly. She stopped her daughter on the stairs, ostensibly adjusting her dress. "I saw the Viscount take notice of you the other evening. Do try to get your little friend to invite you over, if you can." Penelope murmured something noncommittal and rushed around her mother.

"Eloise! I'm glad you came. May we go up to my room, Mama?"

"Of course, darling. You two are such good friends after all."

"You certainly seem excited," Eloise grinned.

"It's been quite a day! And we haven't had much chance to really talk lately. I've missed you." Eloise squeezed her friend's hands as they plopped on the bed.

"I've missed you, too. Now, do tell me about your day."

"Lord Remington and Mr. Tremblay called on me today. I even got flowers! I've never had callers before, El."

"And that is a travesty. You seem very happy about it all. Are you truly happy?"

"Happy and flattered and nervous and excited." Eloise nodded and tried to smile but it was a small, wan thing.

"Eloise? Are you upset with me because I want to get married?"

"Of course not. That would be stupid. Unless you moved far away or he didn't like me."

"I would never let any man keep us apart. If he lived far away you would have to come visit often and if he didn't like you I wouldn't marry him at all. I could never accept a man of such obviously poor taste. I know you don't like overly sweet words of affection but you must know there are few people in the world I care for so much as you." The words caused a twisting ache in her own chest at the way she'd used her power as Lady Whistledown against her dear El. It was nothing too damning or insulting but as soon as Eloise decided to set her mind on finding the identity of the gossip writer Penelope knew she wouldn't stop and she had to do something. Eloise was bullheaded and (though she would never admit it) sheltered. She would take things too far and end up in a mess of trouble. So Penelope slowly and subtly began implying a tendency toward radical political beliefs and flights of fancy and general disdain for men to her dear friend to discredit her in the eyes of the well-to-do. It was effective. People were still courteous because of her family's standing but no one took her seriously and when the Queen decided to speculate on the author's identity, Eloise was safe. That was the important thing.

For her part, Eloise was quite happy with the turn of events. Often flattered rather than insulted by the gossip's barbs and loving when men began to leave her alone more. Penelope expected she even liked having Whistledown's attention. Though she did say the author must be a much stodgier old lady than she originally thought with such old fashioned and backward opinions. So many times Pen wished she could just tell her the truth but El would never be able to keep her secret and the Featheringtons needed the money. The new wardrobe she so prized was supposedly being financed by a dear great aunt who favored her and wished to help her find a good situation this season. And if extra money found its way into the Featherington account books it was subtle enough that Portia didn't take notice.

"You mean that," Eloise asked quietly.

"With all my heart." Eloise squeezed her hand and nodded.

"And how do you feel about my brother's interest?"

"It makes me a little nervous, El."

"Has he been a bully? He can be sometimes. I'll duel him." That brought on giggles from both of them.

"No. Not that. I'm not sure what to make of him. You probably don't want to hear too much. He is your brother, after all."

"If you're open to my advice, talk to him about it. He can be hot-headed but when he's not in a temper he can be surprisingly understanding. And he's gotten less impulsive in the last couple of years, better at listening instead of jumping to conclusions. I should probably learn that myself."

"Thank you. I will try to be brave and take your advice. Now, tell me about how you're doing."

"I'm...unsure how I'm feeling." Eloise turned to look at her intently. "Pen, what do you think about secrets? I mean, I think someone close to me has a secret and I don't know if I should be hurt that they're keeping something from me."

"Who do you think has a secret," Penelope asked as calmly as possible.

"Um, Ben?"

"Oh, I see why you wouldn't want to say. El, I think everyone should be allowed to keep some things to themselves, don't you?" Eloise took a deep breath.

"Yes. I think that must be correct. As long as no one gets hurt, right?"

"Exactly." At that, Eloise gave her sudden, hard hug.

"Oh! I almost forgot I was supposed to ask you to dinner. And Anthony requested that you bring him a letter since you didn't send him one today but don't let him tell you what to do. He needs more people in his life who don't do everything he says."

"In this case, I might have agreed to send him letters but I didn't think he meant every day."

"So, you'll come then? I'll go and let you get ready." Eloise gave her another big, hard hug before bounding gracelessly down the stairs. Portia was ecstatic that she 'secured' an invitation.

"Do your best tonight. A viscount's interest reflects well on all of us, darling."

"Of course, Mama." Penelope waffled over whether to write him or not. Sending letters to Colin was one thing. The contents were always innocent and she could say they were just letters to her friend who was traveling and happened to be a single man. Sending perfumed letters to an eligible, interested man with a rakish reputation was another matter entirely. Still, he'd said he couldn't stop thinking about her and she was good with words. Did he mean it or was he just flattering? Ultimately, it didn't matter. She determined to enjoy the flirtation even if it meant little because it made her feel warm and powerful. She tucked the missive deep into her reticule in an attempt to hide the scent.

"Miss Penelope!" Mrs. Varley called breathlessly at her door a few hours later. "Lord Bridgerton is here to escort you to dinner. He brought flowers." Varley's eyebrows were trying to crawl into her hairline so Penelope acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Rarely did she get to take Mrs. Varley by surprise and she smiled widely once she was out of sight.

"Good evening, Anthony." Her mother's jaw dropped at the informal address but she quickly recovered when Anthony seemed unfazed. "Thank you so much for the flowers."

"Good evening, Penelope. You look exceptionally lovely." This pleased her. The sage and cream gown she wore was one of her favorites and her Mama hated it the most. "I'm glad you like the flowers. Red peonies, the woman called them. They reminded me of you."

"How sweet," she smiled up at him with wide eyes. She'd meant to be playful but he seemed truly stunned for a moment, only able to look back at her and blink. Oh! That was unexpected! Varley broke the spell by taking the bouquet and they nodded their way out the door, him placing her hand firmly in the crook of his arm.

"You don't play fair, Little Pen, looking at me like that in front of everyone."

"How was I to know a man like you would be so effected?"

"A man like me?"

"A rake," she whispered conspiratorially then giggled. He looked simultaneously charmed and annoyed which lessened her mirth not at all. When they entered Bridgerton house he held his hand out.

"I believe I've earned my letter, madam." Here she blushed and he smiled smugly.

"If you insist." She dug into her bag and looked around before passing him the letter.

"Is he being insufferable?" Eloise called from the stairs. "I told you it's not a good idea to give him everything he wants." She took Penelope's arm with an air of authority. "Excuse me, dear brother, while I take my friend in to dinner." They marched off with aplomb, Anthony calling after that he would be along shortly.

Notes:

So it's more like the book than the show. Book Eloise agreed she would never have been able to keep the secret. Also, I thought Pen would come up with some better solution than she did in the show.

Chapter 5

Summary:

things get spicy

Chapter Text

Anthony ducked into the library to read his letter. And smell it. Like a bloody animal. The scent was sharp and sweet like the woman who penned it.

You certainly are demanding, Viscount Bridgerton. I had no idea you expected a letter every day.

LP

It made him smile darkly. If only she knew how demanding he would like to be...He tucked the letter safely into his breast pocket so he could catch her scent if he tilted his head down. Then, he penned a quick response, folded it, and tucked it into his hand.

Feel free to be demanding in return, Miss Featherington. I promise you, I will enjoy it.

A

The family was already seated when he entered the dining room. Penelope next to his seat, Eloise on the other side of her, and Colin next to his mother which happened to put him as far away from Penelope as possible. When Anthony sat down he lifted her hand for a kiss and slipped the note into her palm. One mustn't underestimate the power of small transgressions in a seduction, the allure of doing something you "shouldn't" but in an ultimately safe way. As he suspected, she was unable to wait and read it under the table as soon as his sister was distracted. Pen attempted to hide her blush by taking a drink but wouldn't look at him. He wondered if she knew what his words implied or if she just had a vague sense of it.

Eloise seemed particularly boisterous tonight which mostly covered the fact that Colin said little to nothing. Their mother made a concerted effort to keep the conversation light and moving along, which was an easy task for a hostess of her caliber. The only truly awkward moment came when Colin made a show of excusing himself from the table quite early. Penelope didn't look up despite the pointed stare he leveled in her direction. Soon thereafter Violet was ushering the youngest two up to bed for the night. "Penelope, dear, have you seen our night-blooming jasmine? Morrison would be happy to escort you and Anthony to the gardens, I'm sure."

"I can go with them, Mother," Eloise offered.

"You'll be helping me with the children, dear." Benedict snickered quietly. "You, too, if you're not careful." Penelope grinned at the family and Anthony enjoyed how right it felt for her to be here.

The stony cast of Morrison's face however was unnerving. The man was known throughout the house for his pleasant demeanor and temperament but he walked uncomfortable close to Anthony as they made their way to the gardens. "Pardon me, sir." The man's words were very correct but his tone was hard as he pulled his lord to the side. He never spoke to anyone in the family, much less Anthony, in such a way. "We, your servants, have always been very discreet and loyal to your family, have we not?"

"I've never had reason to complain. What are you getting at, Morrison?" Anthony stared him down but the man remained unmoved.

"Miss Penelope is no Miss Rosso. I must ask after your intentions. Sir." The pause before the honorific told Anthony clearly that Morrison's loyalty only extended so far. He would not look the other way simply because his lord ordered it so. It rankled but he couldn't fault the man for wanting to protect a long-standing friend of the family.

"I am courting Miss Featherington with the intention to marry. However, I will do what I must to win her acceptance, which will be much easier with your help. Are we in accord?" Morrison's countenance softened but he continued to stare. "You have my word, her comfort and happiness are of the utmost importance to me."

"Then, we will support you, sir. You have always been a good master."

"Judging by your reaction, one might think otherwise."

"Why do you think your mother asked me to accompany you, sir? She knew I would stand up to you, if need be." The tension broken, they shared a small smile. It was with a much more affable air that Morrison informed Penelope he would be waiting near the entrance if she needed him.

In a garden by moonlight, Penelope seemed made of dreams. Looking at her, Anthony could understand why poets were moved to write and artists to paint. If he could capture her image in amber, he would keep it safe forever. She was as soft and radiant as the jasmine blooms. He could believe she'd been born an embodiment of moonlight and the green things that thrive within it for just this moment. He stepped as close to her as he dared, fearful she might disappear. God, he was becoming a sap.

Then her scent reached him among the flowers and he needed to touch her. He ran his fingertips lightly up her arm. "It is beautiful here, isn't it?" She shivered and looked over her shoulder at him.

"I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

"Why me? I'm well aware I don't look like the other women you've pursued." It took him a moment to come out of his light trance.

"What do you know of other women I've been involved with?" It might've come out a bit harshly but he suddenly wondered if Lady Whistledown knew more about his past than he thought and it would interfere with their courtship.

"Siena Rosso, Edwina Sharma, and Kathani Sharma. All beautifully dark and slim." Anthony chuckled and turned her to face him, caressing her arms just to enjoy the feel of her skin.

"Oh, darling, do you really think three women is all it takes to make a rake? I'd set my mind to courting the diamond before she was even named. Badly done of me, I know. And of course, being her sister Kate was similar in looks. The fact that my last few paramours resemble in a superficial way is more happenstance than anything. I'm drawn to women who are beautiful and interesting and that has included women who look very different from each other." She still looked doubtful and unsure of herself and that made him frown. "I suppose you could ask Benedict if you felt the need but I should hope you'd believe me. Do you know the excitement I felt when it was you in my study?" Anthony's eyes took on the same intense quality they'd had when she'd looked up at him from his study door and practically begged for his touch. "I tried to imagine anyone else in your place and none of them made me feel the same burning in my gut. Only you."

Penelope melted under his gaze and he could not keep himself from tasting her lips again. Both of them moaned at the first sip. His hands dragged up the bare skin of her shoulders and neck and pulled her close. She was so soft and smooth under his fingertips he was reminded of flower petals again but her mouth was eager and hot. Her breath was coming fast and erratic. "Wait," she whispered, pulling back. He held her close, face buried in her hair, and one hand kneading the back of her neck gently.

"Of course. Did I scare you, darling?" He soothed, trying to control his own breathing.

"No, Anthony. I simply do not wish to ache tonight." Anthony groaned like a dying man.

"You shouldn't say such things, Little Pen. You don't know what it does to me."

"What about what you do to me? Last time you kissed me I was so restless I could hardly get to sleep." He dropped his head to her shoulder and gripped her pretty dress in tight fists.

"I could help you but it would be very wrong of me. You are untouched and being courted by other men."

"Could you explain enough to help me do it myself? I've tried but I must not do it right."

"Bloody hell," he muttered, gripping the back of her neck. The image of her small hand exploring beneath her nightdress because of him was sure to get him through the next week. "If you were mine, I'd show you exactly what to do," he growled into her ear with a little nibble.

"Anthony," she gasped and pushed him away firmly but gently.

"Sorry. Sorry. Just give me a moment to clear my head." He turned away and gripped his hands behind his back until he could think again. A mischievous grin stretched his lips. If he could tell her how to pleasure herself, if it was his voice guiding her to it, no other man would have a chance. He turned back and led her to a little stone bench, bidding her to sit. A glance in Morrison's direction showed he was still at the entrance and pointedly not looking in their direction.

"What have you tried exactly?" Penelope's jaw dropped and she angled her body away from him, unable to look him in the face. He merely smiled and waited.

"I've put my fingers between my legs," she said lowly. "It was very wet and there was one place that felt very sensitive to touch but...I'll start writhing and this pressure builds but it doesn't go anywhere. At some point, it stalls out and I'm left feeling worse than before."

"My poor little one, how frustrating." He trailed his lips over her hair. "And you want my help?"

"Yes. Please." That's what he wanted to hear, please in her breathless voice. He coaxed her leg to move so she was straddling the bench facing away from him. "Trust me," he murmured at her hesitation. "Show me what you do." The glance she threw over her shoulder was desperate.

"I shouldn't."

"I won't touch you under your clothes, I promise. But I can't help you without knowing what you're doing." Her breaths heaved but Anthony waited patiently. She needed to make the decision to cross this line. He kneaded at the tension in her shoulders. Finally, slowly, Little Pen began inching up her dress to mid thigh until her hand disappeared underneath. "Do you feel your entrance?" She nodded. "Trace it slowly. Tease it with your fingertips then dip inward so your fingers get very wet. Now, drag your fingertips up to that sensitive spot and touch it like this." He demonstrated gentle circles with his fingertips on her shoulder. She tensed and squirmed. "Try touching around it instead of directly on it." Her body relaxed a bit and her movements became more fluid. "Does that feel better?"

"Yes."

"Keep going. Imagine the things that make you ache. Imagine my kisses on other parts of you." His voice involuntarily deepened. "I would kiss you anywhere you wanted. You need only ask." She gave a heartbreaking little cry at that and began moving faster, hips jolting forward periodically. "That's perfect, Little Pen. Go faster. Make sure your fingers stay wet. Where your fingers are, that hard little pearl? I would kiss it so gently." Anthony allowed one arm to wrap around her waist as she fell back against him. "I crave it," he whispered directly into her ear. Her other hand reached behind to anchor itself in his hair and he moaned with a desperate wanting. "Yes, darling. Hold me where you want me. I am yours to take." She was getting lost and he was loving it. He continued murmuring in her ear, not holding back the sounds of his desire. Her back arched sharply and he was thankful to have enough clarity and self control left to place a hand over her mouth or Morrison would've come running at her cries.

Afterward, he held her firmly against his chest until she stopped shaking. "That was breathtaking," he soothed, at which she laughed probably a bit too loud.

"I noticed." He closed his eyes and kissed her temple, trying to hide the tremors in his own body. He pulled her hand from beneath her dress and suckled her fingers languidly. It felt like he'd been drugged.

"We should get you home. I'll call Morrison to take you."

"You're not coming?"

"I'm not fit to be seen by anyone my beautiful Pen." Her eyes held questions and concern.

"Will you be alright?"

"Yes, of course." When he stood up rather stiffly she pulled him down and kissed his brow. This time he couldn't hide his shiver and her eyes sparked in a way that made him want to hide her away in his bed until the end of time.

"Goodnight then, I suppose. I hate to leave you this way."

"It's a price I'll gladly pay." Oh lord, her eyes softened and she was looking at him so sweetly he wanted to tuck her away in his heart. Sap, his mind growled.

Chapter 6

Summary:

I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter

Chapter Text

Upon waking, the youngest Featherington sat down at her desk to write a perfumed letter like the heroine in one of her romance novels. The warmth of the sun felt soft on her cheeks. Her quill sat easy in her hand. Last night's events, while decadent, had upset her plans. She wanted to keep her emotions in check and not get too involved with any suitor so soon but after experiencing such closeness she couldn't help but feel partial to Anthony. He was passionate with her in the garden but he still listened. And the memory of his voice in her ear made her shiver. She'd never experienced anything so intimate and she couldn't imagine having done that with any other man. Knowing him for so many years gave a feeling of safety and familiarity that the others could not match. And oh, it was a heady thing, seeing him tremble at her touch. At the very least, he deserved a letter and she wouldn't be embarrassed about giving it to him this time.

Good morning, dear Anthony. Thank you for the invitation to dinner last night. Bridgerton house remains as warm as I have always found it to be. I feel you should know I slept exceptionally well after spending such an exciting evening in your company. I especially enjoyed the game you taught me how to play in the garden and I find because of your excellent instruction I can play it on my own fairly well. I simply have to close my eyes and remember what you said. Though it isn't as satisfying without a partner. I hope your night passed as peacefully as mine.

Hoping to see you again soon,

LP

As it turns out, she wasn't able to send the letter across the street before the day began. Varley was at her door early telling her to get ready. So she quickly dabbed her scent on the paper along with her neck, chest, and wrists. She folded the missive neatly and once she was dressed tucked it into the front of her dress for safekeeping. Her mama, elated by the attention from the Viscount, had plans for them. Mostly, she interrogated Penelope about what she'd learned from the different gentlemen who showed an interest and how they could use it to best advantage. It was a daunting task made no easier by her mother's lack of tact. The time for callers was a welcome relief.

Lord Remington showed up very early during calling hour. Portia and Varley had made sure there was plenty of space for his chair in the drawing room as he was the other prospect her mama was most excited about. The man was an inveterate gossip and conversing with him was quite diverting, even if she had to remember to act surprised by some of the tidbits he shared. She could tell he enjoyed her company quite a lot as well and the time passed quickly until he departed. Though, as Portia pointed out, he hadn't brought any flowers or gifts.

After a brief lull came Baron Hollings. He was a slightly older man, not hard to look at with his thick, black and grey hair and beard. His demeanor, however, left much to be desired and she hoped he did not return. He was condescending more than anything and seemed little interested in what anyone else had to say. It was hard to tell if his attitude was due to them being women or if he was like that with everyone. Not that it mattered. No one in the household was impressed and he would find it harder to come calling again even if he tried. It surprised Penelope when her mother directed the servants to make him unwelcome as politely as possible should he darken their door again. "You have much better prospects than that now. There's no reason for us to suffer through such odious company. In our own home, no less!" On this, they agreed, a rare occasion in the Featherington house.

When Anthony came, she was happily surprised to see Eloise with him. Her mama tried to interject in the conversation where she could but gave up once the three of them got going. Pen found herself smiling more than she even expected as they sniped back and forth and regaled her with stories from childhood. She knew El wasn't as close with Anthony as she might have wanted to be and having been confidantes for years she could see in her friend's face that she was quite touched by being the center of attention between her older brother and Penelope.

Anthony was currently explaining how competitive the very prim and poised duchess was as a child. "Daphne never would tell us what noxious things she ingested to win the contest but after all our teasing that ladies just couldn't possibly beat gentlemen at belching, she would not be outdone."

"You can't be serious!"

"Oh, Pen! You would not believe the smell! I have not forgotten it to this day. And don't get me started on Lady Fwipwees over here. You should have seen him taking tea wearing one of Hyacinth's little bonnets and a ribbon tied round his forehead because he didn't have enough hair for it."

"Ah yes," Anthony said solemnly. "I remember the venerable Lady Fripperies very well. A widow with a mysterious past who'd just swept into town."

"I don't remember all that."

"You wouldn't have heard it. It's the story I made up in my head. If I was going to dress like her and talk like her, I had to know who she was." Eloise gaped. "Don't be jealous, El. I would've done the same for you but you only wanted to play professor and you always kicked me out of class."

"Yes, well, I was angry that you lot could go to university and not me. Plus, you only asked stupid questions."

"You never explained why we can't dye the stars different colors. I was extremely curious about your answer, you know."

"Idiot," El mumbled with a small smile she tried to hide. The warm look on Anthony's face showed he'd caught it anyway. He turned those soft, brown eyes on Penelope and winked.

"Shall we take a quick walk in the garden? It's gotten a bit stuffy in here with all this hot air and I'm sure your mama would enjoy a few minutes of peace." Portia agreed rather too quickly which made Penelope chuckle under her breath. Apparently, the three of them were too much for even her intimidating mother's nerves. She led them out the back and Eloise waved the two of them forward, lingering near the door to give them a little privacy. "I have a gift for you, Little Pen." Anthony pulled out a neat, brown box with a sage green bow and handed it to her. Inside was a metal dip pen was with interchangeable nibs and four bottles of different colored ink. "I thought about a book but you've read so many I think it's best just to take you to a bookstore sometime."

"I know what you're doing, sir."

"Oh? What am I doing?"

"You invited me to dinner so I felt like one of the family but then you showed me what passion we could find together. Today you're showing me we can have fun just talking and that I'll be closer to my dearest friend. You even offered to take me to a bookstore! And you accused me of not playing fair."

"I would call it employing sound strategy. I always aim to win."

"And I would call it a full scale offensive." She peeked up at him as he laughed. "You made Eloise feel special today."

"I hope so. I'm trying to be more of a brother and less of a title." She squeezed his hand. She wished they had a little more privacy so she could tell him how he'd made her feel the night before. She wanted to feel that closeness again.

"Oh! I nearly forgot. I have something for you, too." She turned away to pull his letter from the front of her dress. If the way he abruptly cleared his throat was any indication, he saw what she was doing anyway. "I didn't have time to send it earlier."

"Should I read it now?"

"I think it best you wait." He gave an impish half smile at that and looked at her intently enough that Eloise made a disgusted noise.

"I think that's my cue to leave." The three of them walked back into the house together. As he was lifting her hand to kiss it, Colin traipsed into to the hall. The murderous glare he directed at the envelope in Anthony's other hand could've set it on fire. His grumbles were not quiet as Briarly showed him into the drawing room. After bidding the two other siblings goodbye, Penelope stepped into the room with Colin with some trepidation. She hadn't missed his pointed looks at the dinner table last night, nor the sharp eye his mother kept on him.

"Mr. Bridgerton. This is unexpected." He stood and bowed rather formally.

"It is overdue, Miss Featherington." He stepped close and said quietly, staring down at his hands. "If you'll allow it, I would very much like to speak with you. I owe you an apology. I acted badly and not like a friend at all. I'm sorry I hurt you with my carelessness." His eyes certainly seemed sincere so she led him over to the window where they would have some privacy if they spoke quietly.

"You did hurt me. Why?"

"I was trying to impress idiots so I acted like one. I thought it would be okay as long as you never knew about it. Then when you confronted me I was too ashamed to admit I was wrong." She stared at him quietly, assessing both his manner and her own feelings.

"Very well. I accept your apology." When his entire face lit up she saw the boy who used to hold her heart and couldn't help but smile a bit in return.

"Wonderful! Thank you, Pen!" Colin pulled her down onto the window seat with him excitedly. "Now, my dear friend, how are you?" She chuckled at his enthusiasm and began to tell him how different her life was this season. It felt like he was truly interested and that soothed the part of her that had missed her longtime friend. "I'm glad to hear there are good gentlemen taking notice of you. We've tried to keep the worst of them away over the years."

"What? What do you mean?"

"My brothers and I. If we ever heard a man speak of you in a disrespectful way, we would warn them off. Make sure they knew you had someone looking out for you, same as with our sisters. Since you debuted early, we worried about you even with your mother's efforts." Penelope was completely baffled.

"My mother's efforts at what?" Colin frowned deeply.

"We assumed she dressed you in those childish frocks to divert the attention of any lecherous gentlemen since you're..." He trailed off and looked around like the word was in the room with them.

"Since I'm..."

"You know," he whispered sharply. He gestured toward his own chest and wouldn't look her in the eye. "Uh, since you're very womanly, in some...specific places."

"Oh!" He meant her bosom. "I didn't know anyone looked at me that way." His sharp sideways glance said he didn't believe her. Between his words and Anthony's from before it occurred to her that maybe she was getting notice without realizing it. She would have to test the new idea at the ball tomorrow. He was still eyeing her with a frown but then he shook his head and changed the subject.

"I bought you a small gift on my travels. I was worried when I didn't hear from you." From his pocket he pulled a pretty silver inkwell with a floral design. He'd never bought her gifts before and it brought a smile to her face.

"Thank you, Colin."

"You're welcome. I should probably go before I scare off any suitors. I wouldn't want you to think my brother is your only option." He grinned like it was a joke but it didn't sit well with her. There was an undercurrent of seriousness and she didn't like the thought of him insulting Anthony in some way. Still she rose to walk him to the door. "By the way," he said lowly, "I forgive you." Penelope paused in the foyer.

"You forgive me?"

"For telling Anthony what I said. My entire family was angry at me, you know, but I understand." He. Forgave. Her. His smile was downright patronizing, he was so proud of himself. She bounced the little inkwell in her hand, testing its weight. It would probably make a decent sized dent, even in his particularly hard head.

"On further thought, Mr. Bridgerton, I believe you need this more than I do." She placed the trinket firmly in his palm. "Since you refuse to use your brains before you speak, perhaps you can store them in here for safekeeping." Then she pushed him unceremoniously out the door and locked it. His affronted huff only made her smile.

"I assume you will not be at home should that young man attempt to call again."

"Yes, exactly. Thank you, Briarly."

Chapter 7

Summary:

I hope I handled this well

Chapter Text

Anthony Bridgerton had been sitting in his study for the better part of an hour, sometimes tapping the unopened letter on his lips or twisting the untouched whiskey glass in his hand. The man he used to be wouldn't be in such a state. He would have left well enough alone as Eloise seemed to want, but the man he'd become could not forget the look on his sister's face as she asked him about his feelings for Penelope. Still feeling a pleasant rush at what he viewed as a courting success he hadn't hidden his happiness when he answered that yes, he was serious and very much enjoyed spending time with her. Eloise quickly averted her face, pretending to look at a passing carriage, but she couldn't completely conceal her expression. His passionate sister always had a hard time with that. He didn't know how to respond in the moment so when she told him she'd rather not call on Penelope with him again he simply agreed and let her walk away but he could not forget that look. It was something akin to heartbreak and it was caused by him courting his Little Pen. So here he'd sat contemplating a situation he'd never allowed himself to look at fully. When he'd thought it through as much as he could on his own, he tossed back his whiskey -- His second best, the one everyone liked to pilfer from the study. His best was hidden in a panel in his own room. -- tucked away the letter until he could give it his full attention, and set off to find Eloise.

Finding her in her bedroom at this time of day didn't bode well. When he knocked, she asked him to leave her alone because she was sleeping. "It's important. I need your advice," he lied. Appealing to her vanity couldn't hurt.

"I do not wish to advise you how to better entrap my friend into marriage."

"Of course not. Please, sister. Let me in." With a mighty huff, she acquiesced.

"Fine, come in. Do make it quick, though." She was curled up next to her window so he sat on the bed where he could look at her.Then he realized he hadn't thought out what to say. Damn and blast. Hoping she would appreciate the candor he spoke exactly what he was thinking.

"Am I hurting you, El?"

"What," she asked, shocked. He squeezed his eyes shut at her confusion.

"Let me try again. I know I'm probably not the brother you'd want to talk to about this but please know that I love you dearly and your happiness is important to me." He reached for her hand and held it in both of his until she met his gaze and nodded. "Eloise, dear sister," he was stalling because how does one even ask such a question, "do you wish you were courting Penelope?" She jerked her hand back like she'd been stung.

"That's a ridiculous thing to say! Women do not court each other. How could you...What do you even mean by that? Preposterous!"

"I know women don't openly court each other, but I asked if you wished to. Am I hurting you by courting...someone you love?" He honestly didn't know what he would do if she said yes but he knew whatever decision he made would have to be informed by what was said here.

"Openly? Women don't openly court each other?" Her getting stuck on that sentence answered part of his question.

"Yes. That has never stopped women, even of high society, from being in loving relationships with each other if that's what they want." Eloise's jaw hung slack and her eyes were glazed. Anthony waited.

"I didn't even know it was possible. I thought I was so...Did you always know I was like this?"

"I knew you might be but I'd never seen any indication you were interested in anyone until today."

"I tried so hard to hide it. I was scared what you all would think of me. I'm already defective in so many ways." At this he gathered her into his arms, horrified that she could think of herself that way. He held on tight, willing to protect her from anyone, including herself.

"Never say that. You are just as you are meant to be. You are our Eloise. I'm so sorry you were scared, sweetheart." Anthony's eyes and throat ached with the urge to cry. His poor sister. She must have felt so alone. He kissed her head and held her as long as she let him.

"I don't see how it changes anything. I can't take a wife and I probably couldn't provide for her if I did." There was bitterness in her voice when she pulled back.

"It's more difficult, to be sure, but we are a fortunate family. We have the means to ensure your happiness. I know you don't like indulging possible suitors but you could pretend until you become a spinster. We could buy you a property where you could have a like-minded companion of your choice live with you. You might even find a titled gentleman who prefers other men and you could have a marriage of friendship that allows you both more freedom to follow your heart. I could make inquiries about which men might fit the bill and make the proper introductions." Eloise gaped.

"You have amazed me, brother. I don't know my own thoughts, at the moment."

"Of course. Take as much time as you need to think it through but could you please answer one question?" Eloise glanced out the window with wet eyes and a fond half smile.

"Penelope was a childhood fantasy. I thought we'd end up spinsters together and once we were living in our own home she would see how happy I make her and love would grow. I thought it was the only way I could have love." She squeezed his hand. "But she's never shown the slightest romantic interest in a woman, and I could happily love her as a sister." Anthony took a huge, relieved breath then stopped abruptly.

"Do you truly like Cressida Cowper?" Eloise barked a laugh.

"More than I thought I would," she remarked slyly. "The way she looks at me, I'm certain we are alike."

"If you like her, you like her. Just don't think she's your only option. And talk to Benedict. The artistic set are much more open about such things. He won't judge. If you want to stay home from tomorrow's ball to have private time and consider your options, I will make your excuses to Mother." She gave him an abrupt, tight hug and he squeezed hard in return.

"Thank you," she breathed before shooing him out the door, still wearing a stunned expression but much happier. "I never expected to have this conversation with you but as brothers go, you're not bad. Penelope could do much worse." Anthony knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth so he took the compliment as she intended and it was with a free conscience he was finally able to read his letter hours after calling on the woman who haunted his thoughts. His dreams, too, if he were honest. With another fortifying drink, he allowed himself to soak in her perfume and remember how she'd looked reaching her first climax in his arms. No matter where things might go between them, he would always have that memory. Her soft and hot and tugging at his hair as she found pleasure. He'd taken himself in hand to the thought of her delicate hands on her own body while thinking of him. Later, the Penelope in his dream had no qualms about using his body to reach her own end and it was intoxicating. He woke up needing relief again. Anthony had to shake off those thoughts to be able to read her letter.

Good morning, dear Anthony. Thank you for the invitation to dinner last night. Bridgerton house remains as warm as I have always found it to be. I feel you should know I slept exceptionally well after spending such an exciting evening in your company. I especially enjoyed the game you taught me how to play in the garden and I find because of your excellent instruction I can play it on my own fairly well. I simply have to close my eyes and remember what you said. Though it isn't as satisfying without a partner. I hope your night passed as peacefully as mine.

Hoping to see you again soon,

LP

The bottom of the paper crinkled in his hand as he imagined her much as he had the night before but this time she was mumbling the things he'd whispered in her ear. One day, if they married, he would have to watch her pleasure herself while completely nude. He immediately began to write his response.

My dear, sweet Penelope, I wish I could express myself as well in writing as you do. I also had a refreshing night's sleep. Perhaps I can tell you about the enthralling dream I had when we see each other at tomorrow's ball and you can tell me where I should launch my next offensive. A ride in the park? A night at the theater? For now, I must go and ease a sudden discomfort that has come upon me.

A

P.S. You should know Bridgerton house is warmer with you in it.

Anthony quickly called a servant to deliver his letter then locked the door behind him. He dragged his fingertips lightly across his lips as he allowed his other hand to drift down. He wanted to kiss her petal-soft skin again. Her vulnerable neck, her delicate collarbones. Could he convince her to let him kiss her under her dress so he might leave his mark? Perhaps she would be bold enough to ask him to make her come. It was impossible to tell whether it was the idea of her needing him and begging for release or the thought of her demanding he touch her that brought on his own climax but he couldn't really care. He only wished he still had her taste in his mouth.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

"Mister Bridgerton!" Penelope called out brightly, hurrying toward a surprised Benedict and away from a glowering and slowly advancing Colin. Her enthusiasm drew curious eyes at the otherwise sedate ball. The Baldwins' desire for tasteful elegance sometimes ran to boring and this was one of those times. So attendees were looking for any morsel of excitement to latch onto. "I have saved the next dance for you, as requested." She held out her hand for him to take, which he did, albeit slowly and awkwardly.

"Thank you?"

"You are most welcome," she beamed, leading him to the dance floor. "Corral your brother," she gritted through a false smile, gesturing with her chin toward an unsteady Colin. "He glares harder at my dance partners and I with each glass he finishes." At first, she wasn't worried, maybe even enjoyed his irritated glances a little bit but the drinks were steadily stripping him of his manners to the point he was making a scene. "People are already beginning to speculate and if Anthony, who is courting me, has to address it that will only worsen." Thankfully, Anthony's attention was divided between a persistent baron wanting to talk about investments and watching her. He hadn't noticed yet how Colin was behaving but others had. She really didn't want to write about her family in her column again but the chatter was more focused on her than she would prefer. Benedict looked around with curiosity and frowned when he saw just how intensely his younger brother was staring at them.

"I will handle him as soon as our dance ends, do not worry. I wouldn't have thought you'd be afraid of a little speculation, though."

"Then you know nothing of gossip. Speculation invites a very unwelcome kind of attention and the Featherington reputation cannot withstand much more of that." He tilted his head in acknowledgment.

"I see what you mean. So what has set him off this time? I'm surprised he hasn't already mended fences with you, as much as your inattention bothered him."

"Oh, he tried. And would have succeeded if he knew how to shut his mouth." Benedict hissed a pained sound.

"Should I end our dance early so I can get him out of here before he says something foolish in public again?" He was smiling but his eyes were serious. "What did he say to you, Miss Featherington, so I know how hard to box his ears?"

"Why, he very kindly forgave me," she said in a falsely light tone that spoke of Portia Featherington's tutelage. "For telling someone that he insulted me publicly. I believe I was meant to be grateful for his magnanimity." Benedict blinked then chuckled.

"He'll never find a woman to put up with him at this rate. Poor sod. I'll take care of him, Miss Penelope, so you can enjoy your evening."

"I would appreciate it." The dance ended and he bowed low over hand and, with a glance at both of his brothers, leaned too close.

"Ask me to dance anytime," he said with a twinkle in his eye. She snickered in return.

"You boys are so competitive."

"Yes, but you should see the looks on their faces."

"Are they very cross?" She smiled mischievously.

"Colin is confused and seething. Anthony is," he trailed off while studying his brother's expression, "annoyed but entertained. He knows I'm goading him. I will try to keep a closer eye on Colin so Anthony doesn't have to. He should get to enjoy your courtship." Penelope blushed slightly.

"I agree." Benedict made his way over to his younger brother and threw an arm around his shoulders to steer him out of the ballroom. Colin tried to argue but Benedict dragged him along with a firm grip and a big smile.

"Come, brother," he said loudly near Colin's ear. "Surely you're not still scowling over losing at cards this afternoon." When they left the room, Penelope felt like she could breathe again. She'd been having fun earlier, testing out her new knowledge on unsuspecting suitors, angling her eyes up at them just so or leaning and gesturing in such a way that her figure was displayed to advantage. It would seem the Bridgerton brothers were right when they said men looked at her. She never would have guessed because she never expected it could be true.

She'd felt rather silly about practicing in the mirror at home, even more so when her mama caught her but, oddly enough, she'd only given Penelope an approving nod and walked on. Her technique was not yet perfected but she'd garnered a few starry-eyed looks already.

"I see you've been enjoying plying men with your charms, Little Pen."

"Which is entirely your fault, my lord."

"How so?"

"I didn't know I had charms until you reacted to them, ergo..." she gestured broadly with one hand. "Besides, I need to practice if I expect them to work on you."

"Not at all, darling. I am already charmed. I would dance twice with you tonight, if you wanted. But as I said, you seem to be enjoying yourself." She felt a slight pang of guilt that he seemed so devoted to courting her while she was still considering others but the idea of giving herself fully so soon frightened her. She'd been devoted to Colin for years and he'd always treated her kindly until one day he didn't, and now look at them. No longer friends and both angry. She needed to be certain before she let herself care so deeply again.

"If I were to dance twice with anyone, it would be you."

"Shall we talk then, until our dance?"

"Honestly? I'm tired. If it weren't improper I would let you hold me quietly right here in this ballroom."

"Come, then. Let us enjoy some quiet until our dance." Anthony led her to a shadowed corner and entwined his ring and pinky fingers with hers, angling their bodies so it would be difficult for anyone to see their hands touching. "It's the best I can do under the circumstances."

"Thank you." He simply stood with her. "Have you always been this sweet?"

"No," he said.

It was too bad she couldn't listen for gossip with him right there but their shadowed refuge eased some of the stress binding up her shoulders. She would discreetly wander the room on her own after their dance as she needed more inspiration. Attempting to charm gentlemen took a lot of attention and energy. It engendered a new-found respect for the people who did it on a regular basis. Not just debutantes seeking a match but women like Lady Danbury and the Queen, who charmed and cajoled and threatened people of all kinds with equal skill. Like a muscle, it would take much practice and exercise to develop the stamina to effectively use this new skill.

Anthony and Penelope maintained their easy quiet even throughout their dance. A fact his mother noted, though no one else did. There were precious few moments where she saw her oldest son at ease. He pressed a kiss to Penelope's hand that made her flush before leaving her to her own devices. They'd already spent a lot of time together this evening. Any more would indicate a level of commitment to which she had not agreed. There was still precious little of interest to add to her column. Perhaps some admonishments about providing actual entertainment for social gatherings and ego strokes for the people who could be counted on to throw a ball that was both beautiful and fun.

If she were honest with herself, Penelope was getting rather tired of being tied to her column. Sneaking around had lost some of its charm since she'd had to write about Eloise and her own family so much. Besides, she had a decent amount of money saved up and some good prospects this year. She didn't need to marry for security at this point. Her life would be smaller on her own but she could live happily that way, if need be. She wandered out to a terrace, conjuring up a story in her mind that started with her accepting a marriage proposal from a handsome gentleman who wanted to take her away to exotic places. The honeymoon was beautiful and exciting but when they got home she saw how small-minded and petty he was so she ran away with her savings and her dowry to live in a cottage by the sea, writing novels based on her life and inspiring young women to live life for themselves. Perhaps meeting another handsome man there. Someone passionate and strong who treated her with respect. Maybe he'd have brown eyes.

"Must be a good daydream, judging by the look on your face." Anthony was standing just to the side of the terrace doors, invisible to anyone in the ballroom.

"An idea for a novel, actually. Have I told you I would like to write?"

"Not in so many words but I'm not surprised, considering how much you like to read." He reached out and snagged her hand to draw her close. A glance into the ballroom assuring them no one noticed they were out here together. His arms encircled her waist and pulled her close. "I've wanted to do this since you walked in the door. Did you wear blue on purpose to torment me? I should never have told you how attractive you are. Now others are prey to your striking gaze while I wait patiently for a single dance." Penelope ran her hand through his hair and his eyes half-closed in delight.

"No one else holds me like this. I like to reward a patient gentleman." He hummed in appreciation.

"Would that reward, perhaps, extend to a kiss?" She leaned back and assessed him coolly.

"Yes, I believe I will give you a kiss." He tilted his head forward but she stopped him with her fingers on his lips. "I said I would kiss you. Close your eyes." She ran her hand whisper-soft over his eyelids to close them and pulled his cravat down to gently kiss and taste his neck. He moaned and pulled her harder against him. There was a slight sound of the crinkling of paper. He glanced down, unrepentant, at her cleavage.

"Notes for your novel? Or perhaps for your next Whistledown column?" She took too long to respond, stunned by the words coupled with his nonplussed expression.

"What a silly thing to say." She tried to sound normal but her voice trembled and she knew her facial expression was not under her control.

"Mm, I think not." He whispered to her lips. "Meet me at 2. Your gardens or my swings, your choice. We have much to discuss." He looked at her until she nodded.

"The gardens."

"I'll wait for you." Then he kissed her on the head and it was so sweet. She didn't know what to think. He wasn't making sense. "I've always thought Lady Whistledown would make an excellent viscountess."

Chapter 9

Summary:

things get spicy

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Anthony tried to remain still, to appear to be waiting patiently in the Featherington gardens. He was wondering if he should apologize for bringing up Whistledown the way he did but he'd been wanting to talk to her about it and seeing her with her 'admirers' earlier irked him. Considering the amount of jealousy he felt, he thought he hid it fairly well. He wanted to be the focus of her attention again, wanted her to know he had something other men didn't. And he was fully prepared to use all his tricks to leave the competition in the dust. The shush of cloth on grass alerted him to her presence. She stood in a grey cloak with her hair loose, hands clasped in front of her, expression composed.

"You wished to see me, Lord Bridgerton." Damn. She was nervous and defensive. Though he couldn't imagine a gentle way to bring up the subject perhaps making her wait to discuss it had been a bad idea.

"Always, my sharp-tongued Pen." He beckoned her forward into an area more hidden from the house but still with plenty of moonlight. She followed reluctantly.

"I don't understand what you want from me, Anthony."

"So many things." He held his hand out and waited patiently for her to take it before pulling her into his chest. "That was at the top of the list." For the first time, she leaned away from his touch.

"Pray, do not mock me, my Lord. I do not understand your confounding behavior but you must be angry about Whistledown. You said there was much to discuss. Please, make your point and stop whatever this is."

"Oh, I was angry at first when I thought Eloise was the gossip writer. Then I took the time to think it through. Why she might do it. The fact she never lied, only reported what others were saying. Small kindnesses even, if you knew how to look for them. By the time I realized it wasn't Eloise and must be you, I held no ill will. It only made you more attractive in my eyes. I've always known you were smart and beautiful but I'd never seen how sharp and bold you could be." At this, he lightly ran his hands over her waist, feeling only softness without the confining structure of stays. Her expression was still tense but she was beginning to soften so he laid slow, soft kisses on her cheek, her forehead, her other cheek, her chin, until her eyes began to flutter. "Your other admirers don't know you in this secret way, do they? Can't begin to appreciate you fully." He grazed his lips back and forth over hers.

"You still want to court me? Even knowing my secret?"

"I want you more because of it."

"Are you sure?" The vulnerability in her voice and her eyes almost unraveled him. Her determined, little chin trying not to shake.

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear before now, my beautiful Little Pen. I want you for my own. I want your beautiful body in my bed and your sharp mind at my side. I want to be the only man in your thoughts. You have no idea the things I'm willing to do to assure it." He caressed the side of her neck with just the barest touch of his fingertips. "Do you understand now?" His nose was brushing hers, his lips a breath away from her lips. She nodded. "Then perhaps you should go back inside before I forget that I'm a gentleman." He held her gaze, not hiding his desire. It was a challenge, an offer.

For the first time, she pulled him into a kiss and it set him on fire. Her hand gripped the back of his neck firmly, nails lightly pricking, and her lips were sweet and eager. He had to nip at them, suckle them until they reddened and swelled. He should have more control at his age, he was no green lad, but the feel of her unbound curves beneath that dratted cloak mesmerized him. He wrapped both arms tightly around her waist and spun and lifted her til she was standing on some low rock edging that put her closer to his height. She moaned and began to caress his face and hair as if she didn't know what else to do. She was losing herself in it as well and that was all he could ever want. Their kisses were becoming more heated and frantic the more he let his hands wander. The cloak accidentally loosened from their movements and began to open and slip down her shoulders of its own accord. Anthony breathed out harshly with his eyes closed. "Do you need me to stop?"

In answer she flung the cloak to the ground and pulled him back into the kiss. It took all his strength not to tear the flimsy fabric of her nightrail so he could see all of her. So he squeezed and kneaded at her as his kisses trailed away, nibbling at her ear in the way that made her gasp. One hand hovered at her ribcage just below her breast. Touching her waist or the outside of her thighs was one thing but he would not touch her more intimately if she showed the slightest indication of discomfort. But apparently she was so caught up in the feel of his hot mouth trailing down her neck that she was completely relaxed other than where her hands were squeezing his shoulders. Thank god. His clothing was a persistent irritation but he dare not remove any of it lest he forget himself completely. He would not ruin her, not his Penelope. He had to look down and see how the warm weight of her soft breast overfilled his hand when he squeezed. She gasped and arched into him just at the simple touch and when he circled his thumb around her prominent nipple she cried out. He scraped his teeth lightly over the top of her breast, just above her gown, fighting against his desire to suck and nip until her delicate, silky skin purpled. Instead he gripped her hair to tilt her head back so she was looking him in the eye when he pulled down her gown to expose her pale breasts to the moonlight.

"I want to mark you, my Little Pen," he growled. "Leave a pretty little bruise under your clothes that only you and I will know about." He teased his fingertips along the undersides of her breasts before rolling her nipples between his fingers, making her knees shake.

"My maid might see when I bathe," she said breathlessly.

"Oh? So I should be very careful when I put my mouth on you here." And he proceeded to caress her breasts with his mouth and hands until she couldn't keep still. Her little whimpers made him so hard he had to grasp himself for a small amount of relief. "Once we're married, I'll cover you in the marks of our love and strip you naked every night just so I can see them." Penelope's breath caught at the wicked gleam in his eye as he slowly knelt before her. One of his hands glided up the insides of her thighs. "Maybe there's somewhere else, though, hmm? Somewhere your maid wouldn't see." Her gasp was shaky as he coaxed her legs farther apart and she couldn't look away from his eyes. I have you now, my Little Pen, he thought with satisfaction, nuzzling at the bend of her thigh. "Rest your leg on my shoulder," he demanded quietly, waiting again for her to make the choice. When she began to move he guided her into position and wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her steady. The heady scent of her sex made him grip her tighter but he laid the gentlest of kisses on her inner thigh.

"What about here, my darling? Can I leave evidence of my kiss here? Surely your maid doesn't see this." He rubbed his cheek against her soft, silky thigh, enjoying the decadence of this moment. Penelope was above him, flushed and awestruck. Her brilliant hair and pale skin shown in the moonlight. He was taking liberties no gentleman ever should but hang being a gentleman if that's what it took to have her.

"Yes," she breathed unsteadily. He smiled into her skin and began to suckle at it, kissing and nipping until it became hot under his ministrations. When he leaned back to look there was a small, dark purple circle that he couldn't help but lick. He caught her gaze again as he dragged his tongue and lips farther up her thigh. When she pulled her gown out of the way and exposed herself to his gaze that was all the permission he needed to bury his lips where he'd wanted them for what felt like forever. If tasting her wetness from her fingers had been drugging, licking it straight from her sex was divine. He spread her slightly with his fingers so he could wrap his lips around her clit. She gripped at his shoulders and hair in answer. Yes, my sweet Penelope. Hold onto me. When he slipped a finger into her she began to grow louder and he had to pause.

"Hush, darling. We can't afford an audience. Cover your mouth if you need to." As soon as she did he went back to his task, sucking and licking her little clit and gently stroking the inside of her with his finger. She was an expressive partner, not hiding her reactions, which made it easy to find the most sensitive places inside her and exploit them. When he felt her walls squeeze, he tapped and stroked right there, groaning against her to add vibration. She pressed him closer to her center. He did not stop, would not stop until he heard her muffled scream and her leg went limp on his shoulder. While she recovered he reached into his breeches and brought himself off in just a few strokes. It was embarrassingly quick with his head still between her thighs and he shook like a leaf when it was over. After a few languid kisses to her mound and stomach he fumbled around for the discarded cloak. His legs were mostly steady when he stood and tucked her back into her nightrail. He hated the scant space between their bodies now but they couldn't stay out here all night. He wrapped the gray cloth back around her and held her as long as he dared. With one final lingering kiss he stepped away and pushed her toward the house. Neither said a word, just walked away reluctantly, as if they were tethered and straining at the rope that bound them.

Sleep didn't find Anthony until the sky began to lighten, worrying at the part of himself that stubbornly remained in that garden with her. He wrestled with the things he'd said and done but couldn't bring himself to regret any of it, even when he'd said the words our love. Yes, he remembered saying it. He'd done so without hesitation and she hadn't recoiled in any way. She could've been so caught up in the moment that she didn't notice. There was no way to tell until he talked to her again. He was slightly embarrassed that he hadn't realized the full depths of his feelings until he said it, though. When his blinks became slow and heavy he finally allowed himself to rest. He could think of how to discuss marriage with her later. Viscountess Penelope Bridgerton, he smiled to himself.

Notes:

Anthony is totally doodling Mr. Penelope Featherington in his notebook right now

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Penelope was sitting up in bed, back propped up and staring intently at nothing, when her maid entered. Rae quietly set down a tray of food, which made her lady frown. "I was told you might like to have breakfast on your own, miss." Next to the plate on the neatly appointed tray was an envelope with her name in a now recognizable hand.

My darling Penelope,

You'll notice this correspondence came to you differently. I've paid your maid and one of my loyal servants handsomely to hand deliver our letters so there is little chance of outside interference and perhaps we can converse more freely. They even offered to feign a fancy for each other should anyone ask why they spend so much time together.

I take it from his mention in Whistledown and the fact that Benedict has shipped him off to Clyvedon with Daphne for a time that Colin caused you some trouble yesterday. Are you alright? Combined with my clumsy approach to the topic of your writing and the new experiences we shared after our conversation I can only imagine that last night was rather stressful for you. I am sorry for that. I have a habit of developing tunnel vision when I feel strongly. I sincerely hope you are well today. I am no Coleridge or Benedict (don't tell him I said that) so I cannot adequately express my feelings for you except to say that I am a besotted fool. I wish I had poetry for you but I am better at expressing myself physically. Speaking of which, if you have any questions about what we did together, ask freely. We have already spoken of how young ladies are kept in the dark on matters involving their own bodies and I do not wish that to be the case with you. Know that I treasured every moment with you yesterday and wait impatiently until I can see you again.

Yours,

Anthony

Penelope's eyes unexpectedly grew misty. She had to clear her throat to speak to Rae, who was worrying at her nails as she waited for a response. "Please let Mama know I'm not feeling well and would like to remain in my chambers for the day. Something with my stomach. You may return in an hour to help me prepare for the day. I'll have a return missive ready by then."

"Yes, miss. You're alright, aren't you? Only you seem not quite yourself. I'll return the viscount's money, if you like, and forget his letters. If he's bothering you or some such."

"I'm fine, Rae. Just overwhelmed today. I like the viscount very much. He's a good man, just..."

"What, miss?"

"It's easy to feel confident around him but when he's not with me, doubt seeps in. I feel out of my depth. It becomes hard to believe someone could truly want me."

"You'll pardon me for speaking too freely, miss, but between your mother and that Bridgerton boy it's no wonder you have doubts." Rae didn't bother to hide her distaste for either of them as she sat on the bed with her mistress. "The way the one talks to you and the other of you," she muttered, shaking her head. "But I do not believe the viscount would lead you on."

"You forget his pursuit of the Queen's Diamond."

"He never sent Miss Edwina secret letters."

"How do you know that?"

"Servants talk, as you well know. And I've been looking out for you. I wouldn't have agreed to bring his letters if I thought he was false. Do you truly think him false, Miss Penelope?"

"No. No, I don't. He is very different than I thought, though."

"Well, he's not known for patience but if he's as enamored as he seems to be, he'll learn. Tell him you need time to know each other better." Penelope realized with astonishment she could ask him for that. He'd shown concern for her comfort throughout their encounters. While part of her feared he would grow frustrated and call it all off, the bigger part held onto hope that she could trust him to care enough to be patient.

"Thank you, Rae." The maid acknowledged her thanks with a small nod and left her to her thoughts. Pen carefully reread his letter before writing a response.

My dear Anthony,

I suppose I have you to thank for having my breakfast in bed. That was very thoughtful. You are correct. Yesterday was taxing, even though some of it made me very happy. I am glad to hear that Benedict is taking care of the Colin situation as he promised. Your younger brother doesn't handle his emotions well when he drinks to excess. He should stop doing so in public.

I have much to ponder since yesterday so I'm feigning ill to have time alone today to think. There are so many feelings to sort through, I hardly know what to say to you. I am glad you're no poet. Earnest confessions of your regard mean so much to me. I will hold them close to my heart, especially as your actions continue to bear them out. Further, I will emulate your courage and admit that I feel strongly for you, as well. But I hope you don't think less of me for saying there are also doubts and fears. Last night was unlike anything I've ever experienced. I don't believe you would do anything that would put us in the precarious position of having to marry but that felt like ruination. What other word could be worthy of that feeling?

Anxiously awaiting your response,

Pen

Penelope struggled to slow her breathing after committing those words to paper. Only the assurance that they would pass directly from Rae's hands to a trusted servant in Bridgerton employ made her feel safe enough to do so. It was barely ten minutes after Rae helped her get ready and delivered her letter that a return message came. There were two sheets of paper. The first was very short. It merely read:

Pleasure. Desire. Passion. Intimacy. Connection. Worship.

Overcome. My sweet Penelope, I was overcome.

She paused to let that sink in. Sweet and passionate Anthony was overcome...because of her. She could hardly credit it. She read it again before looking at the second page.

It seemed sacrilegious to put those words next to what I will write here. I told you I was a besotted fool. If anyone knew what occurred, you would be considered ruined. Then again, a mere kiss is considered ruinous by 'polite society'. We have done nothing that irrevocably changed your body or could result in a child, which is society's chief concern. You could accept a proposal from anyone at this point and suffer no repercussions for our time together. Does that answer your question satisfactorily?

Please share your doubts and fears, darling, for I hate to think of you bearing them alone.

Your Anthony

P.S. Should I try to visit and bring you flowers or would your mother scold you for being unwell?

P.P.S. I wish I was joking.

Penelope smiled wryly. He wasn't wrong. It's the sort of thing her mother might scold her for, depending on her mood that day. She didn't bother fighting the urge to write him back immediately.

My Anthony,

Perhaps you should be swamped with business today and send a gift along in lieu of your devilish charm and illustrious presence.

I suppose that answer is good enough for now, though there are still things I don't understand.

I am not used to this kind of attention. It's hard to believe it's real. Perhaps you are simply mistaken or you're caught up in the spirit of competition. It's no secret you love to win.

Penelope waffled over how to write the next bit and if she should include it at all but it weighed on her and he'd asked her to share the burden.

Also, your interest seems sudden and I don't know how to feel about that. Despite all the years we've spent around each other I feel like I'm only now getting to know you. I would like the time to do so properly. Then perhaps, I could feel more confident in us.

Little Pen

Penelope spent the next couple of hours writing in her personal journal to order her thoughts. For years, her choices were so restricted that the amount of possibilities she now faced for the future was daunting. She could better understand how Colin might feel adrift and aimless with little holding him back. It was too bad she couldn't share this new insight with him. Their lighthearted conversations had always brought a spot of brightness to an often dreary life. The whole Bridgerton family did, really. She'd dreamed before of being a part of them and it was always sweet in her mind but now that it seemed within reach, she felt giddy. She decided right then that if Anthony wanted two or even three dances at the next ball, they would be his. It was an expression of intent so they could still take their time before any official decisions were made. She smiled sweetly remembering the look on his face when he said he wanted to dance with her twice. It was the soft and warm side of him he usually reserved for family. It made her stomach flutter the same way it did when he murmured words about love and marriage but she knew better than to take those words seriously. People said many things in the throes of passion that they came to regret. Still, it gave her a little jolt to know he thought of her that way at least sometimes.

She absently caressed the inside of her right thigh where his mark remained. It ached pleasantly, reminding her with every movement of what he'd made her feel. Passion, desire, worship, he'd said. Penelope glanced around the room out of habit to make sure no one could see her thoughts. If she closed her eyes she could see him as he'd been on his knees, eyes burning as he asked for the second time to leave his mark on her. She shivered at the memory. She wanted to cause that look again. If he was so intent just from touching her, how would he react if she touched him? An impatient knock heralded Rae yet again. "It's a good thing your man is generous. The two of you are determined to run me off my feet. Here." She dropped two boxes and a small bouquet on the bed.

"This one's for you, Rae." The smaller box had Rae's name hidden under the bow. Rae opened it with a grin.

"Not exactly," she snorted. Inside were a handful of golden pastries and another letter with the letters LP on the outside. "He is a smart one, though, to butter me up."

Penelope giggled. Which to enjoy first? The flowers. It was a small, delicate bouquet of baby's breath and forget-me-nots. As if she'd had time to forget him, the ridiculous man. Besotted fool, indeed. Inside her box were an assortment of goodies from which she plucked a chocolate dipped strawberry before opening her newest letter.

Devilish and illustrious, you say? Do you think me the Morningstar himself?

I have been treating this like a battle to be won, as I do most things I consider important. The prize, however, is the chance to be seen and known by you. Whether you find me worthy is completely up to you. I would never forgive myself if I didn't do my best to convince you to choose me.

You aren't the only one to think my interest sudden but I can promise that's not the case. If you recall, your heart was engaged elsewhere for a long time, as was my attention. Since we are being brave, I'll tell you my secret. Lady Whistledown made me feel less alone. She was harsh at times but she protected my family. I thought if anyone could see past the resentful man I was, could see that I was trying my best, it would be her. And she was on my side, smart, seeing things in ways I didn't, moving pieces I didn't know to move. In those moments I wanted her for my own. Imagine what we could be together. Imagine her mind working on the eccentricities of Parliament. If I could have someone like her, my responsibilities wouldn't feel so heavy and I would do everything in my power to make her happy. That's why I was so anxious to discuss her with you.

I will gladly give us time if that makes you happy. (Keep calling me My Anthony and you can have anything you ask for. Humboldt said I was smiling like an idiot for the next half hour that I worked on the accounts.) Though I sincerely hope I can still kiss you. That would be difficult to give up, even temporarily. Would you (and your family, if you like) like to join some of us for a night at the theater soon? Well chaperoned time together, very proper, where we can continue learning each other.

Your Anthony

Oh! Oh, Anthony. For how long had he harbored feelings? And he'd felt them for Lady Whistledown, the part of her she had to hide. Penelope couldn't suppress the wicked smile that curled her lips for now, she was equally as determined to have him as he was to have her.

Chapter 11

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Anthony Bridgerton would never have guessed courting would make him smile so. His family was surprised as well, a fact they made sure to point out time and again. Benedict in particular was enjoying laughing at his expense. None of it bothered him, though. He was happy. Amidst the flurry of letters between their homes and their outings together his fiery little paramour seemed to be gaining in confidence. She was also becoming a merciless tease.

Devilish and illustrious, you say? Do you think me the Morningstar himself?

He'd written that in one of his letters, a small jest. Her response stopped him in his tracks.

Normally I think you quite a good man. Though I did detect a hint of the infernal when your head was between my legs.

It wasn't the naughtiest thing he'd heard from a lover but he hadn't been expecting such directness from her so it caught him completely off guard. She only got worse. When he teased her for not perfuming his letters anymore (There were far too many. Bridgerton House would have smelled like a florist's.) she sent his next letter tied with a blue ribbon. Her garter ribbon. She said he might prefer that scent because, well...apparently, his enjoyment of smelling her was more obvious than he thought. Thank heavens she wasn't offended. One of his siblings had knocked on the door while he was still holding the blasted (fragrant, delicious) thing and in his mad scramble to hide it he damn near shut his finger in the desk drawer with it. Frannie was so flummoxed by his frantic reaction that she just walked away instead of saying anything, eyes as big as teacups. He could hardly look at her at dinner. His poor sister never needed to know he was thinking of putting his hand down his pants in his office in the middle of the day.

Penelope was touching him more, as well. Small casual touches that melted tension from him every time. He never realized he was tense until she passed a hand lightly over his arm or back and his shoulders would relax and his hands loosen at his sides. It always made her smile, too, proud of her power over him. Probably the thing he treasured most was how they were becoming friends. He didn't realize until they started getting closer how few of those he actually had. He had siblings, business associates, and acquaintances but very few actual friends. There were Simon and Benedict and that was about it. Looking back he could recall seeing Eloise or Colin whispering with Penelope and feeling a twinge of jealousy that in a room full of people they'd made their own happy little world. It was a kind of magic she had and now he got to enjoy it, as well. He could see, now more clearly than ever, why his siblings were jealous of her attention.

Eloise was acting more like her old self again but she'd gained a surety that made him puff up with pride. He wished he'd had that conversation with her sooner but the implications frightened him. Smart as she was, discretion wasn't her strong suit and he worried about the wrong person finding out. That's part of why he told her to discuss things with Benedict. Despite his penchant for hedonism Benedict knew about temperance and self-restraint and he could get through to El better than most. Anthony checked in one day to see if she'd spoken to her favorite brother yet. Her smile was small and pleased when she said no. She said she wanted to enjoy the feeling of having her secret for a while instead of feeling guilty for it. None could fault her for that. Then she kissed him on the cheek and told him she had good brothers before shutting the door in his face. He hadn't asked anything else since then but he did notice she started to spend less time with Cressida and eased back into her friendship with Penelope. That made him sigh with relief. No one had wanted to pry too much but the distance between the two friends had left tension in its wake that could be felt by everyone. With that resolving and their courtship going well Anthony could feel Penelope becoming confident with their romance. At the most recent ball she'd given him two dances and he'd strutted like a peacock in front of her other suitors.

She hadn't pulled back on physical intimacy either but they'd had few chances to do more than kiss. The downside of Eloise feeling close to her friend again was she rarely let them be alone. Promenades, promised trips to the bookstore, Penelope coming over for dinner or tea all became Anthony, Penelope, and Eloise. She would literally squeeze between them if she could. And if she wasn't being a pest, Colin was keeping a watchful eye. He'd been well behaved and quiet since his return from Clyvedon other than the fact he seemed to have appointed himself chaperone extraordinaire and guardian of Penelope's reputation. The hypocrisy was lost on no one but the rest of the family was finding it hilarious. Ingrates. The one time he'd slipped into a darkened corner with her while at the theater Colin had given him such a look of haughty disappointment Anthony wanted to deck him right there. But he was a viscount and that was not allowed. Besides, she was wearing the jewels he'd bought to go with her dress for the evening. She looked like a Renaissance angel in glittering blue and white and gold. Any man would have been entranced but she didn't take note of any other man, just him. Hard to hold on to a foul mood when she looked at him like that.

As he meandered toward the gardens into Anthony's path stepped the dour, young warden himself, Colin. He stood in the way with a hard, quiet expression. "Brother."

"Colin."

"I don't like this, what you're doing with Penelope."

"I'm afraid you missed your chance at courting her, little brother, and now must cede the field. It is Penelope's decision to bestow her affections where she pleases."

"You do not want love, Ant. I know Pen is intelligent and charming and will make an excellent mother but she deserves a man who loves her, not just someone who thinks she'll be a good asset to the family. Or someone who would seduce her into a decision she wouldn't make otherwise." Colin's jaw was so tightly clenched it must have hurt.

"Do you think so little of me, brother?" Anthony searched Colin's eyes. He was usually so easy to read.

"You are a hard man, Anthony. We all know it. You will hurt her and I will never forgive you for it."

"I will hurt her?" Anthony cried incredulously. "Like you did, Colin?"

"Yes! Exactly. What makes you think I've forgiven myself? Do you think I like that every time I notice my dearest friend has grown into a woman I say something stupid? I know how much I care for her and I still...Meanwhile you've just now begun to know her. I'll not let you take advantage of her soft heart."

"What could ever make you think I'm taking advantage of her?" Everyone else could see how far he'd fallen from the stoic viscount who didn't want to be in love. Why not Colin?

"Kate isn't the only one who heard the way you speak of women and deemed you unworthy of marriage. I am sorry to hurt you but it's true. If you must marry, choose someone else, someone who doesn't care. There are plenty..." his voice cut out here and the stoic demeanor he'd been holding onto gave way to wet eyes. "Why did you have to choose her?"

The pain of that blow nearly took his breath away because it was true. Last year he had been completely unsuitable for courtship and hurt both an innocent girl and a wonderful woman in the name of achieving a goal. But he was different now. "I've changed, brother. Just because you weren't here to see it happen doesn't make it less true. I care for Penelope very much." He would not be telling Colin he loved Penelope when he hadn't had the chance to tell the lady herself. Colin observed his expression with an uncharacteristic coldness.

"I dearly hope so. For everyone's sake." Colin stalked away to the house like a thunderhead cresting the horizon. Anthony, for his part, left for his bachelor lodgings immediately, not wishing to remain in the house with his temper in such a state. Before he stepped out the door he left a hasty note for Penelope. He didn't want her to be unable to reach him or feel forgotten since he'd often been staying with the family for dinner lately but he didn't want this mood to touch her either. This was between two brothers.

Seeing to some matters at my lodgings so I will be busy for the evening. Goodnight, my darling Little Pen.

Still Your Anthony

Notes:

Colin is drawing some (erroneous) parallels between the Anthony/Pen situation and Himself/Marina

Chapter 12

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Mama!" Penelope tried to hide some of the excitement in her voice as her mother was in a mood today. "Lady Bridgerton has invited me to dinner and to spend the night with Eloise. Can I go?"

"Will the Viscount be in attendance?"

"It says he will be dining with the family but spending the night in his own lodgings." Portia eyed her sharply before nodding and shooing her away. Penelope took a deep, relieved breath. Depending on the day, that could have gone any number of ways from her mother refusing to let her go in order to avoid even a sniff of scandal to her urging Penelope to compromise herself and guarantee a wedding. Pen could only be grateful that her mother's response kept to the middle of the lane. Perhaps, somehow, she could find a moment alone with Anthony tonight. She was not blind to Eloise and Colin's antics in regard to their courtship. Sometimes it felt like they were being treated as minor criminals, being kept under close watch lest they steal a treat. Though things seemed to have eased with Eloise and that made her very happy, this was one time she would have appreciated less of her friend's attention. Lady Bridgerton, however, had been very accommodating the last time she had dinner with the family so maybe she had an ally.

Anthony continued to comport himself as a generous and attentive suitor and she wished touch was not so frowned upon among courting couples. Surely a hug or a kiss on the cheek wasn't too much? True, she wanted much more but those smaller things would have eased the ache she felt for the physical closeness they'd shared a few times.

"You are handling this courtship much better than I thought you would. Must be all the years you've spent hanging around Bridgertons. You hardly need my help at all." Mama stood very straight in her doorway. The sharpness of Portia's words was so commonplace as to hardly register but there seemed to be a wistfulness as well, if Penelope wasn't mistaken.

"Actually, I was trying to decide which gown to wear tonight. Lord Bridgerton prefers me in blue, as you know." Yes, that was a hint of satisfaction around Portia's mouth and the tightness around her eyes loosened.

"Let me see." Mama swept into the room and fanned through her wardrobe imperiously, tutting here and there. "This one will do nicely. Something with gold and it will go well with the jewelry he bought you." Penelope nodded very seriously but she was paying little attention as all her blue dresses were acceptable. She was more focused on the woman before her. After all these years, was she finally learning to read her mother?

"Thank you, Mama."

"Yes, well. Continue to manage him well and I will stay away but rest assured I will step in should you falter." Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part but Penelope let herself believe that statement was at least as much reassurance as threat.

As expected, Eloise commandeered Penelope as soon as she arrived, dragging her away for a chat before dinner. Though when El took them straight to her room and locked the door, Pen got nervous. "I have news but you must remain calm. Promise?"

"I shall do my best."

"I've been kissed,"El announced with a triumphant glow about her. Penelope was in shock.

"I didn't know you were courting anyone! Why didn't you tell me?"

"We weren't exactly courting but don't worry about any of that! Nothing will come of a connection between myself and this person. It's already over. The important thing is, I wanted to know what it feels like and now I do!"

"But they could ruin your reputation!"

"They really can't. I cannot share their secret but I promise they cannot harm my reputation without such repercussions as to make the Devil shiver. Aren't you happy for me?"

"If you're certain of your safety then yes! I'm very happy for you! Tell me all about it."

"As I said, there are things I can't reveal but an opportunity presented itself and the moment was just right. We leaned toward each other, our gazes soft..." El trailed off, lost in her memory. Penelope imagined an errant moment with a handsome servant or earnest working man. Perhaps they were alone together for the first time, purely by accident, him lost in the blue of her eyes. What romance!

"El?"

"Lips are so soft, aren't they? I had this idea about kisses from what I've heard of men's behavior, that they are harsh and invasive but this was..."

"Soft? You seem especially fond of that word."

"You have no idea. Yes, soft and exhilarating and warm." Penelope was inordinately happy that this mysterious man had treated her friend with the gentleness she deserved. Eloise sometimes had a hard time believing in the goodness in the world.

"And you're sure things can't work out with this person? It seems you shared a wondrous experience."

"We did but we are too far apart in some important ways. Maybe sometime in the future but as we are now? No." Yes, perhaps when Eloise was officially a spinster she could have a relationship of her choosing and not have to bother with high society's input.

"But you have this lovely memory to treasure now."

"I do." Eloise collapsed back onto the bed with such a look of satisfaction that it made Pen slightly jealous. If El and Colin would get out of the way, she could be wearing a similar look. "So, have you found kissing to be as gratifying as I did," Eloise asked slyly.

"He's your brother, El!" Penelope exclaimed with a fierce blush.

"For the purposes of this conversation I'm pretending he's a faceless suitor. So you admit you have kissed," she gloated.

"Of course, we have. Isn't that why you two have been so insufferable?"

"Oh, indeed. Any man that would put up with our level of interference must truly adore you."

"I suppose."

"Come now, you must be able to tell how much he cares for you. Even Greg and I can see it."

"You can?"

"Yes. Why do you doubt it?"

"It's a small thing. He has been very sweet and respectful."

"Except for the kissing but go on."

"He even says sweet things."

"Anthony," she said doubtfully.

"Yes, stop interrupting. But he doesn't mention love or marriage unless we've been kissing." Pen blushed hotly because they'd done much more than kiss but Eloise need not know.

"Just how many times have you kissed and why didn't you tell me?"

"Again, he's your brother."

"Good point. Hmm, I don't know what might cause his reticence but people often remark that men drag their feet in such matters. Perhaps it's normal? I'm certain he's serious in his affections, no matter what he doesn't say."

"I'll try to remember that. Thank you."

Dinner was as fine an affair as one could want and the family was as well behaved as a group of Bridgertons could be. Penelope's smile hardly left, even with Lady Violet's affectionate gaze straying between Penelope and Anthony on a regular basis and making her feel shy. He held her hand under the table whenever he thought everyone was distracted enough not to notice. He had such lovely hands. She'd never had reason to notice a gentleman's hands before which was probably a good thing. If she'd known then how a gentleman's hands might make her feel she would have been even more awkward and tongue-tied around them. Feeling rebellious, she did allow herself a good look at Benedict's hands, just out of curiosity. Not surprising he was popular with women of independent means. She'd have to ask Anthony someday if men noticed women's hands in similar ways. Not tonight, though, as he would be leaving after dinner and they were unlikely to have time to talk alone. Or so she thought.

After Lady Bridgerton started ushering people away from the table, she made a point to hang back with Anthony. "Dearest, didn't you say you had much paperwork to do this evening? You may use the study as late as you need. I'll make sure no one disturbs you." Violet didn't look at Penelope while she said it but she made a point of saying it loud enough for Pen to hear before swanning away down the corridor. Penelope stood in shock.

"Did she just...give us permission to be alone together?"

"I don't know," said Anthony. "But I'm not about to let an opportunity go to waste. Come to me when you can," he whispered with a fervent kiss to her fingers. She strolled, dazed, to the library where she and Eloise could read and whisper to each other while pretending to read. Eloise even asked her if any of her romance books described kisses. Penelope could not suppress her smile for her dearest friend had never been interested in romantic novels before. Whichever young man captured her interest had certainly made an impression. Their conversations made the time pass quickly and before she knew it, Eloise's book was drooping onto her chest every few minutes. Pen quickly got her up and walking to her room. Once sleep overtook her, Eloise was quite a biddable zombie. Many a time over the years had Pen awoken with drool on her shoulder and El's hair in her face as she flopped into a new position. Annoying but adorable, all the same. She couldn't help but hope that whatever kept her and this new flame apart might resolve itself. Eloise's maid caught them coming into her room and took her off Penelope's hands.

"Are you going to bed as well, miss?"

"Not yet, Delia. I think I'll read some more."

"Go on, then. I've got her. Goodnight, miss."

"Goodnight," she whispered to them both. With a watchful eye, Pen meandered past the library toward the study, making herself scarce whenever she heard a servant coming.

When she reached the door, she quietly stepped inside and shut it behind her. Anthony was actually working at his desk but abandoned it as soon as she spoke. "Your mother was true to her word. There are no servants nearby."

"I can't begin to understand her motives but I dare not question it when they are to my advantage. Best lock the door anyway, just in case." Pen did so and leaned back.

"Are we to have a repeat of our first kiss?"

"If you wish, though I would be loathe to stop there." He slowly rose from behind the desk and tossed off his jacket before prowling toward her.

"It occurs to me, my Anthony..." she trailed off as his hand slipped softly around her waist, his heated smile at the nickname tightening her belly.

"Yes? We've established that I like the way your mind works. Please, enlighten me." He drifted the lightest kisses from her shoulder to her neck, thoroughly distracting her.

"You have seen and felt me quite intimately. I've not been afforded the same privilege." He tipped her chin up and kissed her languidly.

"Do you wish to see my body, Penelope?"

"Yes." He hummed in satisfaction.

"That is an excellent quality in a wife." He leaned in for another kiss but she pushed him away and swatted his chest with a stern frown.

"Ooh! Damn you, Anthony Bridgerton!"

"What? Why?"

"Why is it you only say those things when we're intimate in some way?" She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the insufferable, handsome man.

"Have I not told you in our letters and in person how I feel about you?"

"You say you are besotted and call me charming and offer me dances but you only use words of marriage and love when we're being ruinous." He was looking down but she could see he was trying not to smile which only annoyed her further. "Fathead."

"Oy, easy now." He unfurled one hand from her crossed arms and toyed with her fingers. He may even have been blushing. "It was unintentional, Little Pen. I promise. When you asked for time, I tried to hold back the intensity of my feelings so as not to overwhelm you. But when I touch you, I can't seem to help myself."

"I never asked you to hold back." He stared at her keenly.

"You want me not to hold back? Do you know why I keep my clothes on? If I let it go that far, I would seduce you completely. I have to keep control of myself somehow. You are far too tempting."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. I've wanted to marry you for a while now. Feel this?" He rested her hand on his chest. "You are right here. I just don't know if you feel the same." Penelope laid a chaste kiss over that chest and he shuddered.

"Please," he whispered with his eyes closed.

"Please what, my Anthony?" She couldn't help but stroke his face.

"Tell me if I am alone in this." Bringing his face close she whispered the word no into his lips and kissed him deeply. He lifted her so their bodies could press together from top to bottom.

Notes:

i thought the spice would be in this chapter but it said no, we want our own chapter.

Chapter 13

Summary:

When you put two horny lovebirds in a study

Chapter Text

Anthony playfully nipped at her lips before pulling back with a satisfied grin. "Does this mean when I present you with a ring, you'll say yes?" Penelope's eyes narrowed.

"You did not just propose to me while ravishing me against a door."

"Would a chaise be more appropriate?"

"Anthony!"

"Your Anthony," he corrected and she softened against him. "No, darling when I propose it will be much better than this. We'll have fireworks and acrobats, at least." She giggled and he liked the way it felt where they pressed together.

"Perhaps not all that but I demand to properly hear that you love me before you're allowed to ask for my hand."

"That's fair. Any other demands, you little minx?"

"Well, I did come in here with a specific goal, if you remember."

"To see me?" He placed her feet gently on the floor. "Penelope, I told you. It's what keeps me in control of myself. Once you touch me, I will be lost and while I enjoy sneaking around with you I have no desire for our first joining to occur in a study with my entire family just down the hall. Later perhaps, but not the first time."

"What if I didn't touch you? What if you performed for me?" All of Anthony's thoughts froze for a moment. He'd asked lovers to perform for his viewing pleasure before but he'd never done it himself. Could it work?

"You must tell me not to touch you. If you say it, I'll keep my hands to myself. Though I warn you, I will still try to seduce you."

"I also have no desire to lose the rest of my innocence under these circumstances so do your worst." That was the wrong thing to say. Penelope should know better than to challenge a Bridgerton. Anthony's hands slid up the outsides of her thighs, ones he constantly desired to rub his face against, to cup her round ass and squeeze.

"You want to see my worst," he purred.

"But you must not touch me," she rushed out in a high, breathy voice.

"I think you want my touch, Little Pen." She shuddered in his arms and tried to catch her breath.

"Later. For now, I want to know what it's like to watch my lover. You'll give me that won't you?" He had no idea the word lover on her soft lips would effect him so. Not quite as drugging as her scent and taste but close.

"I'll give you anything."

"Then back away. Stand there by the couch. I hear it's rather comfortable." She hopped up on his desk and crossed her dainty little feet and hands, eyeing him without shame. She looked far too at ease for his taste.

"What do you know of a man's body, my darling," he began as he slowly loosened all his buttons. Her breath caught and her eyes darkened as his shirt began to open. Very good.

"I thought this was a show, not a discussion."

"Oh, I believe you'll come to enjoy my words very much, but fine. If you're not up for conversing I can narrate. I require some participation, however."

"Hmm?" she questioned distractedly as his shirt slid off completely.

"Pull your dress up for me, love. Show me if my mark is still there."

"Why should I?"

"Because it will make me mad for you. You must have noticed how I love your thighs and from where you're sitting you'll see exactly how your body effects me." She pretended to contemplate but quickly relented and started inching her clothing up to bare her legs. She stroked the inside of her thigh with delicate fingers, turning it out so he could see.

"Your mark has long faded I'm afraid." Anthony growled.

"I'll make you a new one at your earliest convenience." He eyed the shadows of her dress hungrily. "Just a little higher, sweet. Let me see if you're wet."

"Pants off first," she volleyed back. Anthony ever so slowly loosened his breeches, taking care to flex the muscles in his arms and chest as he did so. Penelope's mouth dropped open slightly and he could hear her little breaths coming faster. He decided to take off his socks and boots, turning to each side so she got a nice view of the line of his legs up to his derriere, before letting his pants fall. Sweet, little Penelope Featherington's eyes widened and her breath stopped completely.

"Play fair, darling. Lift your dress. Show me how wet you are. There we go. Lean back so I can see better. Spread your legs on the desk." Anthony groaned at the glisten of her curls and started forward.

"No!" she cried. "Stay there by the couch."

"I only wanted a closer look at your beautiful quim. You can indulge your future husband."

"Absolutely not. You must stay where you are. No cheating, Viscount."

"Surely it's not cheating to breathe against your soft thighs and wet cunt. Let your scent surround my face." Anthony's stiff cock throbbed at the idea. Penelope moaned. He wondered if she could see the heat in his eyes. Could she possibly understand how he might ravish her if she let him off the leash right now? When he pictured her round ass pressed against him and his hand wrapped in her hair he felt it up his whole spine.

"Touch yourself for me, love," she countered and he couldn't disguise how that word made his whole body relax and focus completely on her lips. "Touch yourself as you would like me to touch you. Show me where you want my hands." He was obeying before he realized, one hand caressing his brow and cheek before sliding down his neck.

"I want to feel so much more than your hands," Anthony said but he continued to drag his own over his chest and stomach like she'd asked. "I want to feel every bit of you. I can't wait to see you properly bare. I'll strip you of everything but your ring. I'd have Benedict paint you that way if I wouldn't feel the need to kill him for seeing my wife." His hand had reached his cock and he let his head fall back on his neck, watching her with eyes barely open. "You should touch your sweet cunt. I can see how you want to."

"S-sit down first so I know you'll stay put." One corner of his mouth lifted in a dark half-grin. He slowly reclined on the cushions, leaning fully back with his head on the scrolled arm, one leg bent and the other foot on the floor.

"Tell me to stay put and I will. Make your demands of me." She got lost for a moment watching his long body stretch out before her.

"Stay there until we're done. Just like that. You're," she swallowed. "You're beautiful." Anthony stroked his cock with one hand and gripped the arm of the couch with the other, the dark blue brocade beneath him sliding smoothly against his skin.

"Thank you. Come closer and get a good look. Aren't you curious? Let me have a better view of your hand between your lovely, soft thighs." Penelope maneuvered a broad, cushioned chair closer to where he lay without even questioning it. The arms were wide enough for her to drape her knees over comfortably. He would have to remember that for later, it had potential. She settled in and spread her legs without an ounce of hesitation, making the precum well up from the head of his cock. Bold indeed, his Lady Whistledown.

"I miss wearing your mark, Anthony." That pulled a groan from deep in his chest. This close it was so easy to imagine pressing his face in close to luxuriate in her scent and delicate skin before taking her.

"Are you trying to talk me off? Of course you are. Your wicked words will test my pride, I can tell." She was looking rather delighted with the obvious effect she had on him. "I could be done far too quickly but I want to watch you come first. Spread your lips for me. Mmm, yes, my Little Pen. So warm around your fingers isn't it?" She quickly went back to playing with herself and her movements were growing desperate. Her eyes restlessly wandered over his entire body. "On our wedding night, I'll sink my cock into you so slow and deep." Anthony had to fight not to get lost in the fantasy. "I doubt I'll be able to pull myself away from you. I'll stay inside you all night. The next day when you're sore I'll bathe with you in hot water before I take you again so gently you'll have no doubt that I love you." Her eyes glistened with moisture and her thighs began to shake but Anthony kept his own reactions pushed down. He could feel the pressure building, that he would lose control soon but he could hold out just a little longer. It was still too soon for his liking. He'd wanted to seduce her further but she was too tempting. "Come for me, Little Pen. Then put your wet fingers in my mouth so I can come with your taste on my tongue. Please." His body was straining toward her with how hard he was holding back but she'd said no touching and he would contain himself. She came with such a wounded noise it almost took him over the edge. He had to stop and squeeze himself and wait but Lord she was glorious, worth every ache. "Please," he said again. "Pen, please." She was still panting open-mouthed as she came down but she managed to bring her wet fingers to his lips and he immediately lost control, sucking them fully into his mouth as he came. Their eyes held as he shivered.

"You were...That was... I understand now why you say love words when we're intimate. It's..."

"Overwhelming," he finished. His eyes were trying to droop but there was no way he was falling asleep naked in this study. He had to leave. He had to get dressed. "I don't want to leave you." She smiled sweetly then gave a huge yawn that made them both laugh. "You raise a good point. You must get to bed so I can propose to you properly." She gave a lingering caress to his cheek.

"Do you mind if I stay and watch you dress?"

"Only if you can stay awake. I don't think my pride would recover if you fell asleep on me." She did stay awake, though with more yawns, and even helped him with his buttons and cravat. He didn't touch her until he was fully dressed and he pulled her into a full body hug that was completely improper and scandalous. "Goodnight, my beautiful one," he said, petting her hair. Her sleepy body began to lean more heavily on him. "You sneak out first. I'll leave in 15 minutes or so." She murmured assent into his chest, still fighting off sleep. He watched her tread quietly down the hallway with a fond, tired smile then went to write a few notes. If all went according to plan, Penelope would be as good as his Viscountess by tomorrow evening